


Stiles Stilinski and the Cursed Maypole!

by Uthizaar



Series: The Cursèd Objects of Beacon Hills [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blood, Bottom Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Breeding, Dancing, Facials, Fish out of Water, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Horny Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kissing, Lots of Cum, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Maypole, Mystery, Mysticism, Nipple Play, Nudism, Nudity, Oral Sex, Orgy, Pagan Festivals, Paganism, Post-Series, Precum, Precum as Lube, Ritual Sex, Secret Crush, Sex Cult, Sex Magic, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Weather, Teleportation, Time Travel, Top Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Top Stiles Stilinski, Uncut Scott McCall, Violence, cum, dark themes, improvised lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uthizaar/pseuds/Uthizaar
Summary: When a vivid dream turns out to be real, Stiles Stilinski drags his best friend Scott from bed one early spring morning. Together they are hurled into a vortex of altered time and space, meeting attractive strangers in strange lands, and finding that there is more between them than mere friendship.
Relationships: Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Cursèd Objects of Beacon Hills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726228
Comments: 38
Kudos: 36





	1. There’s Something in the Forest

It was dull and misty when Scott woke up, the cold morning air seeping into his bedroom from a crack in the glass. He blinked blearily into his pillow, uncertain as to what had awoken him. There was a rattle of something solid against the window pane and the werewolf rolled over to stare at it, his senses extending as sleep faded away. The sound came again a few seconds later and Scott pushed back the duvet to climb out of bed. "Ugh, I was having such a good dream..."

He opened the blinds and peered out, frowning when he recognized the figure standing on the lawn under his window. “Stiles?” Scott muttered as Stiles waved up at him. He unlocked the window and pulled it up, thrusting his bare shoulders and head out into the chilly morning. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to show you something! C’mon, dude, it’s insane!” Stiles called up to him in a hushed whisper. He was bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, grinning at Scott. “C’mon!”

“Dude, it’s like five a.m.!”

“So?”

“You’ve got your baseball bat with you, that’s never a good sign.” Scott commented as he distractedly rubbed the palm of one hand over his stiffening nipples, reacting to the cold breeze that ran across his skin with questing fingers. “And let’s not forget what happened the last time you dragged me into the woods in the middle of the night.”

“Ok, one, it’s just before dawn, not midnight.” Stiles defended himself, an affronted expression pulling at his handsome face. “And two, what happened last time turned out to be awesome! Eventually…I mean, the whole Hale terrorwolf thing, not cool…but this is! C’mon, bro, you gotta see it!”

“Fine.” Scott sighed, feeling his reluctance crumble under the onslaught of Stiles’ alternating frustration and adorableness. He felt himself blush when those thoughts rose to the surface and Scott turned away from the window, letting the blinds close behind him. Even if there was no way Stiles could see his rapidly bulging hardon, Scott didn’t want to talk to his best friend while sporting a boner. “Especially when he’s the cause…”

After a few minutes of finding something warm and comfortable to wear in the inclement weather, Scott grabbed his keys, sneaking downstairs and out of the house without waking his Mom who had come in not an hour past from the night shift. He joined Stiles at the end of the lawn, seeing his friend’s Jeep parked down the street. Scott nodded at Stiles’ bat warily. “Are you going to tell me what we’re looking for in the forest?”

“Oh, I already know what it is, it just, uh, it needs two people.” Stiles replied vaguely. “Well, ideally more than two people, but I want to make sure it works first, it’s sturdy enough, you know, and then we can come back for other people.”

“Uh huh.” Scott grunted, trying without success to stop the images that flooded his mind’s eye while Stiles talked. _It’s some sort of device? A machine…like a dildo machine that needs two riders? Oh yeah, I can see you riding it now, Stiles, and I’ll be right there with you! We’ll never know how sturdy it is until you let me get on your dick, Stiles, while you’re riding it, then we’ll-_

“Dude.” 

“Ahh!” Scott blinked and shrank back when Stiles snapped his fingers in front of his eyes.

“Dude, you were zoning out. I know it’s early, but focus!”

“Err, sure, right, I’m with you.” Scott muttered, his cheeks feeling hot as Stiles led the way back to his Jeep. “Um, what part of the forest are we going to?”

“Um,” Stiles paused and then shrugged. “I can’t remember exactly, but we’ll find it.”

“Ok.” Scott replied slowly and climbed into the Jeep. “How did you find it in the first place then?”

“It came to me in a dream.”

“What?!”

“Hang on, hang on, I wouldn’t come to you without checking it out first and it’s totally legit.” Stiles held up his hands, steering with his knees as they took off down the street. “Ok, so maybe in my dream there were more naked people and an orgy or something was going on around it, but it’s there in the forest and-”

“Just take me to it, Stiles, I don’t want to keep guessing.” Scott groaned into one hand, secretly imagining what Stiles would be like during a mass orgy. _Is that why he wants to get everyone back there after we check it out? That’d be weird, but if he’s interested in-_

“We’re here!”

“What? We’re barely down the block.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but that trail there leads to the part of the forest we need to get to.” Stiles cut the engine and undid his seatbelt. “Ok, you coming, Scott?”

“Err, in a minute.” Scott replied uncomfortably as he felt his cock swell and push down his thigh, constrained by his underwear. “Um, you go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“Uh huh.” Stiles smirked. “You didn’t go to the toilet before coming out here, did you? Those piss hardons can be a real problem, just use a bush, I won’t look!”

“Screw you, Stiles.”

“Haha, c’mon!”

“Is this it?” Scott asked when they broke through a dense thicket of trees into a small clearing. The air was still and lifeless, with a stale quality as though it had been trapped indoors for days on end without ventilation. He looked around cautiously, but it appeared as though they were alone. “Stiles? Is this the place? It smells weird.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice.” Stiles shrugged and followed him into the clearing. “And yeah, it’s over here, can’t you see it?”

“I…” Scott winced and shook his head. His vision swam for an eye-watering moment before returning to normal. Nothing had changed except for the appearance of a tall, thick pole of wood that had been driven into the ground in the middle of the clearing. It was made from a polished smooth stand of wood, perhaps pine or ash, Scott wasn’t sure, and had a strange, almost pulsating aura to it. Red and blue ribbons had been tied in a criss-cross fashion near the top of the pole and hung down, flittering invitingly in the still air. He pulled his eyes away from the mesmerising patterns the ribbons wove with each other, the werewolf looking instead at the ground. The earth was disturbed, small holes and furrows formed in the deep, dark soil, glimpses of white like shards of bone visible in some places while glistening liquid filled other pockets, a viscosity that almost looked like-

“Scott?” Stiles called out, repeating his name until he turned around. “Scott?”

“Eh, yeah, what?”

“It’s pretty cool, right?”

“Is it?” Scott arched his brows at Stiles’ eager expression before looking back at the pole. “What is it anyway?”

“I think it’s a maypole.” Stiles replied, moving to stand next to him. “I did a Google search while I was waiting for you to wake up.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?”

“I did!” Stiles glared at him indignantly. “You slept through three of my calls, dude! Check your phone.”

“Meh, I must have left it at home.” Scott muttered, patting his pockets. “Ok, so what does a maypole do? Why is it here?”

“It’s for European folk rituals and stuff.” Stiles explaining, stepping closer to the pole. “They celebrate the end of Spring and coming of Summer, it’s got pagan roots, probably something druidic too.”

“Really?” Scott frowned. “We haven’t had the best experience with druids, Stiles.”

“I think that’s only for some countries, in most of them, it seems to have a fertility aspect.” He had pulled out his phone again and was scrolling down the screen. “Yeah, it’s celebrated all across Europe, appears to have been an occasion for young people to declare their love or interest in another person in their town or village. Pretty neat!”

“Huh, why is it here? It looks freshly carved.”

“Don’t know; maybe there are some pagans or traditionalists new in town?” Stiles suggested, reaching out a hand to let one of the red ribbons trail over his fingers. “And it is the end of April.”

“Right,” Scott looked sharply at his best friend. “How did you find it again?”

“I, uh, had a dream.”

“A dream?” He echoed dully. “Sure, Stiles, that seems normal.”

“Look, it was one of those hyper-realistic dreams where you swear everything was real and it actually happened!” Stiles protested. “And it wasn’t just some vision of this pole, there was a lot of other things going on too.”

“What other things?”

“Uh, you know, _other_ things!” Stiles stammered, the back of his neck flushing.

“Oh, the orgy, right.” Scott avoided sniffing the air despite the swooping sensation in his stomach and the abrupt increase in his heart beat. “So, it was one of those dreams, huh?”

“Yeah, well, the maypole was real.”

“So I can see.”

Stiles nodded silently and wrapped the red ribbon loosely around his hand and wrist, swinging his arm back and forth slowly. “A lot cultures have maypole dances they do, that must be what these ribbons are for. You want to give it a go?”

“As long as you’re not recording it.” Scott sniggered at Stiles’ expression. “I have werewolf grace, you’re just a bad dance-”

“I know.” Stiles snapped. “Just grab a ribbon!”

“Fine, fine.” Scott stopped laughing as he selected a blue streamer opposite from Stiles. He mimicked his friend’s posture and wrapped the ribbon around his hand and wrist, tugging on it slightly to test the strength of fabric and pole. “Ok, now what?”

“I’m not sure.” Stiles shrugged and began to walk around in a circle, Scott following him as the ribbons tied tighter around the maypole’s girth. When he had completed one full circuit, Stiles began to hum softly under his breath. It was a catchy little tune and Scott found himself humming along as they continued to walk around the maypole.

“La, la, la, la la, laaaa!” Scott’s voice grew louder in concert with Stiles as they moved, his feet feeling disconnected from his torso, his arms and hands swinging back and forth almost of their own accord. They continued to hum for another circuit before breaking into a loud, rhyming song. "Swing! Swing our hands! Swing our hands together! Swing! Swing our hands! Swing our hands in our circle now!" Scott's voice called out, the words appearing without conscious thought as Stiles cried out in the same tune with a different rhyme.

"Fly! Fly! Fly around the earth! My feathers touch my brother! My feathers touch the earth! Circle! Circle! Circle around my brother!"

Together, their voices became even louder, their words finally joined, their pace around the maypole increasing, the song turning into a scream. “Fruit of the earth! Dew of the air! Heat of the flame! Guide us onto the visitor! Let our energies be interwoven! Fruit of the earth! Dew of the air! Heat of the flame! Guide us onto the visitor! Let our energies be interwoven! Fruit of the earth! Dew of the air! Heat of the flame! Guide us onto the visitor! Let our energies be interwoven! Fruit of the-”

A flock of cawing ravens burst out of the trees overhead and cut off the two teenagers, forcing them to a stop close to each other. Scott felt Stiles collide softly with him as a slow crashing wave of agony rolled over his head and down through his body. The ribbon around his hand and wrist suddenly tightened and then relaxed, sliding off his arm. Scott fell to his knees, darkness and prickles of white light spreading across his vision even as he heard Stiles’ grunts of pain in the far distance before Scott blacked out completely.

Scott sat up, the grass under him feeling wet, his head still light with a lingering ache. He looked around, spotting Stiles nearby and then climbed to his feet. “Ugh, what the hell just happened?”

“No idea.” Stiles muttered, accepting Scott’s hand to drag him upright. “Thanks.”

“Hmm, the air smells different, cleaner, maybe.” Scott looked around before flicking his gaze back when he noticed something turning through the trees in the distance. “Stiles, is that a…windmill?”

“There’s no wind turbines in Beacon Hills.”

“I’m not talking about a turbine, I mean a windmill with sails and stuff.” Scott replied, frowning when he noticed Stiles was staring at something in the opposite direction. “Stiles, are you-”

"Err, Scott," Stiles muttered. "I think we should be more concerned about Medieval Times over there." He gestured towards a group of men who had emerged out of the trees a short distance from them, some holding crude staves, the others with axes and bundles of wood. They were dressed simply, in plain shirts of a muted brown or dull white, close fitting pants that resembled leggings more than trousers, each wearing a hat or hood. The men had frozen in place, staring and pointing at Stiles and Scott.

"What the hell is going on?" Scott wondered before he turned around to see the maypole still standing behind him, although the multi-coloured ribbons had come loose and were now in a pile next to Stiles. Unlike before, the pole was now dark and weathered, looking strangely starved and lifeless, much older than it was just a few minutes before. He patted his pockets for his keys, frowning when he couldn’t find them. “Do you have your phone? I think I dropped my keys.”

“Um, I don’t have it.” Stiles swallowed uneasily. “It was in my sweatpants along with my keys and before I blacked out it felt like they vanished.”

“That’s impossible, you must have-”

“Err, Scott?” Stiles gestured for him to come closer as the group of armed men began inching closer, one of them brave enough to call out. “Is it just me or is he speaking German?”

“Mysterious maypole, druidic origins, prophetic dreams!” Scott glared at him. “Why did I think listening to you was a good idea?!”

Stiles grinned at him, "I guess we ain't in Beacon Hills anymore, Toto!"


	2. Isolation

Stiles gestured for Scott to stay beside him as the group of men edged closer. He wetted his lips when they called out again, the words sounding unfamiliar at first until they resembled something closer to English. _Oh! Maybe I should say something._ “Hallo! _guten Morgen!_ ”

“Dude!” Scott hissed at him, his expression turned from anxiety into surprise. “When did you learn German?”

“ _Was? Ich spreche kein Deutsch._ "

“ _Sie sind definitiv!_ ”

“What?! Now, you are!”

“No, you-” Scott broke off when the group came to a stop in front of them. “Err, _hallo!_ ”

“Told ya you were speaking German.” Stiles whispered out of the side of his mouth. He smiled disarmingly at the men, noticing that there were all relatively youthful, perhaps in their early to mid-twenties, some bearded, others clean-shaven. There seemed to be some hesitation among them before one man in the middle stepped forward and gestured politely at him, his words still archaic but inexplicitly understandable.

“Good morning.”

“Hi, uh, my name is Stiles, this is Scott.” Stiles replied pointing first at himself and then at his best friend. “Um, this might sound weird, but, uh, where are we?”

“You are in the forest.”

“Um, which forest, haha. Which one would that be? Haha, oh dear.” Scott laughed nervously as the men glanced at each other, confusion writ across their faces. “You know, never mind, I guess I am-”

“What year is it?” Stiles cut across him, discomfort rising like bile from his stomach.

“1342, by the Elder’s reckoning, at least.” The one closest to them answered. He frowned when Stiles groaned aloud. “Are you injured?”

“I’m not sure.” Stiles waved Scott away. “1342…how could…Ah, apologies, we must have lost our bearings in the night.”

“What happened?”

“We were travelling.” Scott replied carefully, the scent of doubt filling the air between them. “We’re, um, uh.”

“Ribbon traders!” Stiles jumped in, offering the group a disarming smile. “We came through the mountain pass from the south; I had heard of a shorter route along the forgotten paths in the forest and convinced my business partner here to follow me.”

“Where is your cargo?” Another of the men spoke up, this one younger than the rest. “I don’t see any ribbons.”

“There’s some here,” Stiles stepped aside to show them the pile at his feet. “The rest…oh, it was a foolish mistake to light a fire last night.”

“We have seen strangers on the edge of the village this past week,” The first man nodded. “Bandits most likely, they attacked you?”

“I’m ashamed to say we ran away without a fight.” Stiles gave them a rueful grin even as he felt Scott stare at him. “Our lives or our cargo? A difficult choice.”

“But the right one.” Scott added firmly. “I went back to the campsite earlier and all I found was this pile of ribbon, I guess the markets at, uh…”

“Gotha.” Stiles spoke confidently. “They’ll just have to wait for the next shipment.”

“Hmm, the Elder will not be pleased that bandits are attacking travellers, rare as they may be, on the outskirts of our town.” The group’s leader nodded at him. “He will want to hear the details from you. Please, come with us.”

“Err, ok.” Scott replied when Stiles looked at him for agreement. “Lead the way.”

Scott looked around as they followed the men away from the maypole and along a faintly worn track through the tall trees and dense bushes of the forest. He cleared his throat, catching the attention of the nearest man. “So, am I to understand that you don’t get many visitors?”

“No, not anymore.” The dark haired youth shook his head. “There have always been bandits and deserters in these woods, but when the monsters moved into the caves near the river, too many traders were attacked or eaten for them to risk taking the shorter route to Gotha and the other way, back to Prague.”

“Oh, grim.”

“Yes, wolves and bears.” He replied to Scott’s unasked question. “They keep away from the village, but it’s not wise to go outside alone, especially in the winter.”

“I’m just glad that summer is nearly here.” Stiles said from behind him. 

“That is right, only a couple of days until we welcome summer back with open arms and eager smiles!” The youth grinned at him and then the expression disappeared as he frowned at Stiles and Scott. “It has only been a few years since the last cloth trader came through, but I would not have thought fashions had changed so much amongst the merchants.”

“Oh, right.” Stiles looked down at his sweater and grimaced. “Err, fashions in Prague are changing with the times, but the ribbon merchants have been experimenting with ways to make ourselves stand out.”

“It’s certainly working.”

“Thanks?” Stiles frowned at Scott when he looked back. “I’d be glad to change into something more, uh, local when we get to the village.”

“It’s just around the next stand of trees.” The youth pointed and moments later, the group passed through the thicket and out of the forest.

The village stood in the middle of a large clearing, the broken stumps of trees still visible at its outer edges from where the forest had been cut down for timber. The settlement was ringed with a stone wall that stopped just above chest height, the remainder built from thick wooden stakes, their tops sharpened to a point. An arch reached into the air over the heavy wooden gates that barred entry into the village, while a fast flowing river cut off access on the side furthest from them. The rocky ground nearby had been recently cleared for farming, with neat rows of furrowed soil and leafy green plants sticking up out of the dark brown soil. Smoke hung in the cloudy sky from numerous houses inside the defensive walls.

The gates were pushed open by the men and Scott and Stiles stepped inside onto a muddy street that was barely wide enough for three of the group to walk abreast. The houses were small, dark affairs, all built of wood or stone and huddling together, their smoke curling up from squat chimneys in thatch roofs. For all that their appearance was mean and rustic, each was a little different; some had fences for chickens or a pig, while others had a sheltered porch with chairs and tables set out, yet others had gardens of climbing plants and leafy green herbs. The village’s single street led up a small slope towards the center of the settlement. 

Stiles grabbed Scott’s arm for leverage as they made their way along the muddy path, his shoes sucked into the churned earth and rain from the night before. But the discomfort of his slowly dampening socks was forgotten when they entered into a rough square that would probably have been used for market days and festivals. He looked around at the shuttered shops and empty stalls that lined the square before his attention was pulled back to the middle by Scott’s urgent tugging on his sleeve. “What?”

“Look.” Scott nodded at a familiar looking pole reaching into the sky. “A maypole.”

“It’s newer.” Stiles whispered back. He looked again at the shops, noticing that many of them had once been well appointed and furnished, but had since fallen into disrepair. His eyes travelled further along the square towards a small chapel that had seemingly been abandoned as well. “Curious.”

“What is?” The youth had caught back up to them.

“Uh-”

“Nothing,” Scott cut across him quickly. “We’re just wondering where your leader’s house is?” He waited for their guides to lead them on before glancing at Stiles with a silent shake of his head.

“Ok.” Stiles muttered and followed Scott and their party over to a stone building at the other end of the square.

The interior of the house was dim and smelled strongly of wood smoke, the scent almost too much for Stiles to bear. He could feel his eyes watering before he turned back to the entrance and waited for an errant gust of wind to freshen him up. When he looked over at where the group of men and Scott had gathered, Stiles was able to make out a high back chair with elaborate symbols carved into the wood. Another man was occupying it; greying hair and worn face betraying his age, his body wrapped in thick sheepskins, a single heavy ring made from some dull metal around the middle finger of his right hand. Stiles walked forward to stand next to Scott and offered the Elder a smile. “Greetings, I’m Stiles, this is Scott.”

“Hello.” Scott echoed nervously.

“Stiles…a curious name.” The Elder’s voice was more youthful than his appearance, and bright eyes studied them intently as he gestured for Stiles to continue. 

“We’re ribbon traders from Prague,” He paused, looking at the men who had discovered them, but none seemed to want to speak. “We were travelling along the disused paths through the forest last night, we lost our way and were…attacked. They took our cargo, our wagon, even our travelling clothes.”

“I see.” The Elder nodded. “Too long has it been since we had traders, even ribbon traders. But it would not do for innocent men like yourselves to be set up by bandits in our forest, no, no. Gunter!” 

“Yes, Elder?” One of the men stepped forward.

“Gather the hunters and take them into the woods, check the caves along the river and see if you can’t find these bandits and our new friends’ lost cargo.” The Elder sat up from his slouch and fixed Stiles with a welcoming smile. Gunter gestured at two other men and the trio left the house. “I hope that they will return with promising news soon, but in the meantime, I would like for you to stay; our inn is just off the square and I will tell Helga that you are our guests. She will treat you well.”

“That’s very-” Scott started to say before the youth from earlier broke across him.

“But the summer festival is in two days, uncle, what if Gunter and the others do not return their cargo by then?”

“Don’t worry, Axel,” The Elder smiled at him reassuringly. “They will be back before the festival starts. It is the highlight of our year after all! And after the harvest, the most important event for all of us to celebrate together.”

“As you say.”

“Now, why don’t you bring our new friends to the inn, hmm?”

“Yes, uncle.” Axel nodded for Stiles and Scott to follow him back outside. “It’s just across the square.”

“Next to the rundown church?” Stiles murmured, watching for a reaction from the youth, but Axel just shrugged. “Very well, I would appreciate if you could find us something to wear that is a little less…that makes us look more like your people.”

“Very well.”

The noonday sun barely shone through the small grimy window of the room the innkeeper had led them to and Scott wrinkled his nose at the scent of mildew from the damp corners of the wooden frames along the window’s edge. There were two beds of rough design, set low from the ground with lumpy mattresses that appeared to be stuffed with straw. He and Stiles had made their beds using the coarse woollen blankets Helga had supplied, slightly smoother linen sheets had been placed between the blankets to provide some measure of comfort. The rest of the room was cramped with a wooden trunk at the foot of each bed and a clay bowl and jug filled with water on a short table next to the window.  
The door opened and Stiles returned with a stack of poorly folded clothes in his arms. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Scott frowned at the open door until Stiles closed it. “Uh, do you think we’re speaking English again?”

“I don’t know, does it matter?” Stiles shrugged, moving across the room to join him at the window. “We should keep our voices down anyway.”

“Yeah.” Scott agreed quickly before falling silent. “Um, Stiles?”

“Mmh?”

“Why aren’t you freaking out? We’ve travelled back in time!”

“Yeah, I know, I didn’t think panicking was going to help.” He glanced at Scott, brows furrowed. “I’ve been trying to figure out how it happened…what do you remember about the maypole? The one in the forest, _our_ forest.”

“Err, I remember us picking up the ribbons and then…” Scott grunted and shook his head. “Nothing, it’s blank. The next thing is waking up here, well, out in their forest.”

“Right, me too.” He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice further. “There’s definitely something supernatural at work, I bet it has to do with that maypole. At least we have the ribbons with us so if they’re connected, we might be able to find a way back.”

“Right,” The werewolf nodded. “But you told the Elder that-”

“I had to come up with something plausible.” Stiles cut across him quickly. “I’ve been playing this Medieval RPG, _Kingdom Come_ , so I’m pretty sure I have the lore to get us out of any awkward situations.”

“Ok, great.” Scott sighed. “At least you know more than I do. Did you talk to Helga?”

“And Axel, yeah.” He turned away from the window and walked into the narrow gap between the beds. “Helga apologised for the room, said that they never get visitors, well, they get one visitor on the summer festival, but that could just be symbolic, I don’t know. She started talking about all the food and preparations that need to be made for this festival, so maybe there’s offerings or something. Either way, they apparently keep this room for young couples moving out of their parents’ home until a new house is built in the village.”

“Ok.” Scott nodded, trying to ignore the surge of excitement and nervousness that crashed through his stomach and into his chest as he thought about if he and Stiles _were_ the young couple. He shook his head a few times and then gestured at the clothes. “Is that what Axel gave you?”

“Uh huh.” Stiles held up a worn shirt and started separating out the various garments. “These are made out of wool, but they’ve been washed a lot so it’s a little softer. He said that it usually gets warm at the turning of the seasons, so he gave us linen tunics and, uh, no pants.”

“No pants?”

“It’s the style apparently; the undertunics are long though, I’d say they’re meant to cover, uh, what needs covering. I don’t know if you noticed, but none of the men we’ve seen so far are wearing pants; the women have much longer shifts on so they’re covered up.”

“I thought there’d be a codpiece.” Scott muttered as he joined Stiles on the opposite side of the bed.

“Hah, I don’t think these people are wealthy enough to afford that; there’s no hose here, uh a type of legging that would work as pants.” Stiles laughed as he explained. After inspecting the tunic, he pulled his sweater over his head, his t-shirt riding up so Scott could see his clenching abs for an all too brief moment. “There’s linen underwear too, but I’m gonna keep my CKs, they’re not going to see them.”

“Right, right.” Scott muttered, unable to pull his gaze from Stiles’ chest, the view now spoilt by the rough, brown tunic that Stiles had put on. “You keeping your t-shirt on too?”

“Wool makes my skin itch.”

“Oh.” Scott tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Um, what about socks and shoes? I saw a few of the other people in town were barefoot.”

“Most of them outside were wearing shoes, no socks though.” Stiles dropped two pairs of heavy, leather shoes onto the bed, their wooden soles clacking together. “So you can get away with those hideous ankle socks you wear!”

“Hah.” Scott smirked at his friend and started to take his clothes off, making sure he was in his tight-fitting trunks for as long as possible, his bulge pressing attentively against the smooth fabric. But Stiles wasn’t looking at him and eventually Scott grabbed the red linen tunic and pulled it over his head, the hem falling to just above his knees. “I think I’m going to be cold with just this on.”

“Here.” Stiles moved over to him, a belt with a simple silver buckle in hand. “You have to put this around your waist, at least, that’s what the rest of the men are wearing.”

“Can you help me?” Scott asked, clearing his throat to hide the waver in his voice. He swallowed thickly when Stiles stood closely behind him, his hands working to wrap the leather strap around his middle. _I could just back into him right now, I bet his cock is just in the right position!_

“Ok, done.” Stiles moved away and fastened his own belt around his waist. “You ok? You seem to be distracted.”

“Err, what? No, I’m fine!”

“Oh, ok.” Stiles sat down on his bed with a grimace as he tugged at the neckline of his tunic. “We’re blending in and the story I told the Elder will buy us a few days.”

“But?” Scott managed to stay focused on Stiles’ words and less on his changed appearance. _I didn’t think it would suit him, but damn, the clothes look good! They would also look good on the floor with Stiles in my lap! Ah, why am I thinking like this?!_ “Um, how are we gonna get home?”

“That’s the ‘but’. I think we need more information.” Stiles gestured at the window. “Maybe those villagers know something, maybe they’re in on whatever happened, I don’t know. But if we split up, we’ll cover more ground.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes. Maybe. No. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But we need to get back, I don’t want us to have any adverse effect on the world by being here too long.”

“Oh, like stepping on a fly in this time period, wipes out all humanity in our time period kinda thing?” Scott smirked a little while Stiles glared at him. “No?”

“Look, I’ll talk to the Elder again and then whoever else I can find. I’ll ask them about the old maypole in the forest, see what they know; you talk to Helga and Axel-he seemed to like you.”

“No, he didn’t.” Scott replied sharply, too sharply he realized when Stiles threw him a confused look. “Err, I mean, what do I say?”

“Just ask some general questions; what their lives are like, any strangers or strange creatures around lately, see if you can figure out what’s up with that rundown church.” Stiles listed the topics off on his fingers. “I haven’t seen signs of any new house of prayer and that’s pretty damn unusual for Medieval society.”

“Ok, will we meet back here?”

“No, I already don’t like having this conversation; let’s meet at the church; even if we can’t get in, there seemed to be some open space between it and the outer wall.” Stiles nodded for Scott to get up and they both stood. “Let’s go downstairs, try to act natural, and remember our cover story.”

“Already preparing for FBI undercover ops, huh?” Scott grinned toothily at him, but Stiles just playfully shoved him out of the door. _Aw, yeah, Stiles, manhandle me!_ “Uh, I could really do with something to eat.”

“Hmm, Helga said she was preparing the midday meal, so I guess we can get some of that before we go.” Stiles replied, not commenting on Scott’s sudden proximity to him as they climbed down the narrow staircase. “Are you clear on the plan?”

“Yeah, Stiles, don’t worry,” Scott grinned at him. “That’s all I’m thinking about!”


	3. Questions and Actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit sexual content without the use of protection. Do remember that this is a fantasy story and some liberties have been taken; please always practice safe sex in real life! Also, this chapter is a **lot** longer than I had planned for, but when the smut river flows, you gotta take advantage of that!

Scott followed Stiles downstairs into the dim interior of the inn; the main room had several tables and benches spaced out next to the walls and around the wide open fireplace that dominated the area farthest from the door. A metal spit reached across the flames, but was empty, while neat stacks of cut blocks of wood sat on either side of the hearth. Aside from the light it threw out, there were several candles scattered about, placed on earthen dishes, the wax collecting in the grooves of the pottery.

Narrow windows with no glass looked out onto the street outside, a garden of herbs and other vegetables at other the side, and then towards the village square. There was no counter or bar area such as Scott had been expecting, but rather Helga, the innkeeper, was standing next to a collection of large clay jars and several sturdy looking kegs and casks. All manner of drinking horns and tankards were arrayed proudly on shelves over her head, as well as several common looking cups and jugs on top of one of the kegs.

He walked over to the fire as Stiles smiled at Helga and spoke with her in quiet words. Scott stood with his back to the flames, the habit to not eavesdrop on their conversation was engrained by now after several uncomfortable and embarrassing lessons in the months that had followed being bitten. Instead, he glanced over at Stiles when his friend joined him at the fire. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh, I just asked her to bring out some food,” Stiles shrugged as Scott gave him a strange look. “I haven’t eaten since last night, didn’t even stop to grab coffee when I came to get you this morning.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point.” Scott acknowledged, suddenly aware that his stomach was empty and growling. “Should we grab a table?”

“There’s no rush, lunch for the village isn’t for another few hours, I think.” Stiles spread his hands behind his back, inching closer to the fire, explaining when Scott frowned at him. “It feels pretty damp here, I just want to banish some of the chill.”

“I know what you mean.” 

“Hey, Scott?” Stiles turned to him and lowered his voice. “One thing I know for sure, don’t touch any food with your left hand.”

“Uh, why?”

“It’s a cultural thing; that’s the hand you use for…” He trailed off and inclined his head downwards as Scott’s brows furrowed. Stiles sighed, “They don’t have toilet paper here, ok?”

“Oh…Oh!” Scott balked and looked around in case they had been overheard, but the only other people in the inn were two teenagers playing a dice game and Axel sitting on the step outside, whittling at a piece of wood with his knife. “Uh, any other tips?”

“Um, probably, but I can’t remember right now.” Stiles shrugged and then pointed towards the table closest to the fire as Helga emerged from the back area with bowls of steaming food. She placed them down as another youth entered behind her with a small loaf of bread, more white than brown, shaped like an oval, and two pairs of a knife and a spoon which he laid on the table next to them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Scott nodded his thanks and glanced at Stiles as he picked up the smooth, carved utensils. “Is this bone?”

“Antler, I think.” Stiles whispered back. “My uncle used to carve figurines from elk antlers; they had a similar grain. Usually you’re meant to have your own cutlery, but we did get robbed.”

“Oh, they took that too, huh?” Scott murmured back, drawing a stern look from Stiles.

“Stay in character.” 

“Uh, ok. It smells good though.” Scott replied as he raised the pottery bowl up to his face and breathed in, analysing the contents with his enhanced senses. “I think there’s some vegetables, maybe beans in this?”

“Mmh, that’s the pottage.” Stiles said knowledgably as he poured himself and Scott two cups of dark ale from the pitcher left next to them. 

“The what?”

“Uh, basically anything that’s cooked in a pot. And those probably are beans, whatever meat or fish you have is added in and that’s why everything comes together.” 

“More from _Kingdom Come_?” Scott murmured as he took a bite, smacking his lips in appreciation. “Hmm, fish, salmon, I’d say.”

“Ah, makes sense, with the river so close.” He nodded. “How is it?”

“Uh, it’s hot and it tastes nice enough.”

“Ok, let’s eat and then we can get to figuring this place out.” Stiles replied as Scott agreed with a nod of his head. “Around midday, which should be in an hour or two, we’ll meet at the edge of the church. I’ll find a place not far from the entrance and you can join me there. Everyone should be having their lunch or doing their work, we’ll be free to talk.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Scott nodded again and dipped a slice of bread into the sauce. “This pottage really is quite good!”

“Ah, um, Elder?” Stiles called out tentatively as he entered the stone house they had been brought to that morning. His eyes adjusted to the dark interior after a moment and revealed the man to be standing with his back to the door, towards the embers of the fire. A young woman was beside him, a spill of long hazel hair down the back of her auburn shift, her hand on the small of the Elder’s back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just wanted to speak to you, I can come back another time.”

“It’s no problem.” The woman turned towards him with a welcoming smile. “We were just about to go for a walk, inspect the crop fields. Would you care to join us?”

“Yes, join us, young man,” The Elder encouraged him. “I would know more about the world beyond our village, traders were rare enough in days before we came to be so isolated. Is Sigismund still Emperor?”

“Uh,” Stiles paused as the fleeting attention he had paid to AP History came back to haunt him. They were looking expectantly at him and Stiles shrugged, trying not to act as though he had been taken off guard by the question. “No, um, there was a recent change to the, um, line of succession, the Habsburgs. No war though, praise be.”

“Hmm, I have not heard of that family.” The Elder replied, turning around, and walking slowly over to the door as Stiles fell into step with him. “Ah, but where are my manners? This is Theresa, my wife.”

“A pleasure.” Stiles inclined his head slightly as Theresa simpered at him. “I noticed the fields as we came in, they seemed very recent.”

“Yes, we normally use an area behind the smithy to grow our crops,” The Elder explained as they emerged into the daylight, the sun beginning to break through the clouds overhead. “But the soil has not been returning as much as we need in the last two harvests. The forest has provided the shortfall these two winters.”

“Hmm.” _Would they know about leaving fields fallow to recover their nutrients? Maybe not._ Stiles nodded politely as he considered what advice, if any, he could offer to them. “But, um, the soil beyond the wall is fertile?”

“It is.” Theresa shared a look with the Elder that was too fleeting for Stiles to get a read on and she gestured towards the gates as they walked slowly down the path, past the maypole in the middle of the square. “We have been blessed with much fertility this last year; many women are pregnant, and others already given birth.”

“All at the same time? That must be…a lot of work for your midwife.” Stiles ventured, surprise in his voice. “Although, I haven’t seen many children about the village.”

“Alas, for many years our women were barren.” The Elder replied as he leaned on Theresa to help him along the path towards the open gates. “It took a lot of…effort and prayer to get the blessing of children back.”

“Indeed.” Stiles muttered. _Blessing, huh? In a church with half the roof missing, streaked whitewash, and an overgrown graveyard? Even if they were careless in their own homes, they wouldn’t be in a house of god. It doesn’t quite make sense…yet._ He glanced at them to find Theresa watching him curiously. Stiles smiled and nodded at them, “God is good.”

“Yes, He is.” The Elder murmured, turning enough to look back at the center of the village, although Stiles noticed that both the church and the maypole were in his line of sight. “May He continue to bless us with a bounty of His glory!”

“Mmh hmm.” A sinking feeling began to spread through his chest and stomach as Stiles regarded the maypole for a moment longer than the other two. “So, have you two been blessed with children?”

“No, we are keepers of…god.” Theresa said, an awkward pause filling the space around her final word. “We tend to His shrine, ensure that the appropriate gifts are found in time for the celebration, and give hospitality to His ava-”

“Ah! Look at that growth!” The Elder cut across her loudly and gestured at the leafy green stems that were several inches out of the rich, dark soil that had been pushed into furrows. “With the rain last night and today seeming to get warmer, I wager that these crops will be waist high by the time midsummer rolls around!”

“Yes, very impressive.” Stiles tried to catch Theresa’s eye as the Elder continued to talk about their potential yields and plans for further expansion, but she avoided his gaze and instead walked away to the other side of the field where several men were clearing land with hoes and collecting rocks in woven baskets. _Hmm, I’m beginning to get that bad feeling again. Let’s wait and see what Scott can find out._

After they finished eating and Stiles left to talk to the Elder, Scott got up and walked over to the two teenagers playing dice at the other end of the inn. He smiled in a friendly manner at them as they nodded back; they seemed about fifteen or perhaps fourteen, Scott wasn’t sure. They were both large in stature with obvious muscles under their loose tunics, he noticed the callouses on their hands when they picked up the cup to throw the dice, and they both had the sort of tanned, weathered complexions that came from working long hours outside. “Can I sit with you? What are you playing?”

“Sure, have you never seen a game of dice?” One of them, the dark haired teen, laughed and gestured for him to sit.

“Oh, we have different games in Prague.” Scott lied quickly. “Still with dice, just played differently. Although I’m not much of a player.”

“Pity,” Replied the blond haired one. “We could have used a new game to play.”

“Is it your day off?” Scott asked and then drew in a sharp breath as they stared at him. “Um, I mean, you’re not working today?”

“We raised the maypole this morning; the Elder said we could rest a while before helping the others with the rest of the preparations.” The blond said. “My name is Godric, that is Thestor, and we know you’re one of the lost merchants.”

“Scott.”

“Ah, we had a Scott once.” Thestor nodded as he rattled the dice inside the cup and then threw them across the table. “One of the Elders.”

“He passed away?” Scott asked and then added, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, he died doing what he loved!” Godric smirked and Thestor chuckled. “A pity they were taken together though.”

“Aye, she had such long golden hair, such supple skin, barely twenty.” Thestor sighed wistfully as Godric shook his head disapprovingly. “What?”

“Would you really want her after she had sat on that old man’s dick for three years?”

Scott blinked at the abrupt coarseness of the conversation, but he stayed quiet and listened instead.

“She would have begged to get a taste of my cock!” Thestor bragged and reached one hand below his belt to the folds of his tunic. “Get filled by a real man!”

“Pfft! A _real_ man, huh?” Godric mocked him and took the dice back. “And how long ago was that made real? Oh, two weeks ago with-”

“Um, are you saying that this Elder’s wife died at the same time as him?” Scott interrupted cautiously. “That they died in bed together?”

“They died together, but not in bed.” Thestor smirked at him. “They were fucking out in the-”

“Scott?” 

“Huh?” He turned around to see Axel standing in the entrance of the inn. “Uh, yes? Did you need something?”

“I thought you might want to see the rest of the village.” Axel said, looking past him at Thestor and Godric sternly. “And you two; my uncle wants the rest of maypole construction completed by this evening. Go out and get started; I’ll send the apprentices to you after their chores.”

“Fine,” Thestor stood up, glancing back at their game board. “I was winning anyway.”

“You’d think so,” Godric grunted and finished the last of his drink. “Come on, that platform needs wood from the other side of the wall.”

“I apologize for interrupting your conversation.” Axel smiled at him, a flash of surprisingly white teeth before his grin faded away. “Some people would just avoid work all day! Come on.”

“Sure.” Scott got to his feet and followed Axel outside. The clouds were breaking up and large patches of clear blue sky could be seen all the way to the tree-crowded horizon. The sun came out abruptly and heat lanced through Scott for the first time since they arrived. “Hmm, it’s getting hot.”

“You’d know the summer welcoming festival is coming; it will start tomorrow night and continue into the next day.” The youth grinned again, gesturing for them to start walking towards the maypole in the center of the village. “It always gets hot around this time of year: it’s like nature is giving us a taste of what is to come in the height of the season.”

“Hmm, all this wool is going to be a bit heavy then.”

“Oh, yes, but you don’t have to wear it.” Axel smirked at him as Scott’s eyes widened. “Especially when there is work to be done, often the braies is enough. When sweat is rolling off you, you don’t want to be wearing your tunic!”

“Uh huh.” Scott pretended to know what he meant and continued walking. _I bet Stiles would understand what Axel just said. Either way, I’m already beginning to get hot just walking around._ “What do you want to show me?”

“Why, our collection of ribbons, of course!”

“Err.”

“You’re a trader and we’ve had the same ones for ages,” Axel explained as Scott grimaced and then nodded. “Great! We’ve made some new ones over the years as others became too frayed to use anymore, but with your arrival…well, it’s fortuitous. And if nothing else, if we can’t find your cargo, you can at least tell us what fabric is best to use in the future.”

“Oh, great.” Scott nodded again. “Lead the way.” _I don’t know anything about ribbons..._

“Scott!” Stiles called out in a low voice, gesturing for his friend to come over to him when Scott looked over the ramshackle stone wall that ringed the church and kept it apart from the rest of the village. “C’mon, climb over!”

“Yeah, ok.” Scott leapt over the wall in one fluid motion, landing in a bed of blooming dandelions, their yellow flowers bobbing and weaving in response to his arrival. “I was looking for you.”

“I finished my investigation a lot faster than I thought I would.” Stiles replied and wiped the sweat from his brow. The clouds had vanished completely in the time since they had parted ways and the sun was blazing down on them from the pale blue sky. “I would have returned to the inn to change, but I thought we should meet first. This way.”

“I can get you something lighter if you want?” Scott offered as he followed Stiles. _Or you can just take it all off for me right here, right now!_

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take off the tunic when we get out of sight.” He replied and continued until they reached the back of the church. Overgrown graves-some with worn headstones, others with simple weathered crosses-stretched out beyond the gravel path that wound around the building. The stones were sparse, and more weeds grew up around them, giving credence to Stiles’ hunch about the villagers and the source of their blessings. “Besides, we have more important things to discuss than being too hot.”

“Hmm.” Scott grunted as if he didn’t agree, but then nodded. “Ok, are we secure here?”

“No, someone could see us or overhear our conversation.” Stiles looked around and then gestured at the boarded up door behind them. “See if you can’t break some of those planks and create a hole for us to enter. The fact that the church is shut up like this makes me very nervous; if there’s two things we associate with Medieval Europe, it’s knights in armor and the ubiquitous presence of the Catholic Church.”

“Got it.” Scott nodded again and crouched down at the door. He reached out and pulled the lowest board off with unsurprising ease. His arms straightened out for a moment before another plank was plucked away and then Scott used his foot to kick in the lower section, creating a gap for them to squeeze through. “Shit! Was that too loud?”

“I don’t think so,” Stiles looked around. “Most of the village are eating right now; we already had our meal, so we won’t be missed. Let’s go inside.”

Scott crawled into the church first and then reached back for Stiles, helping him through the hole. “I have you.”

“Thanks.” Stiles nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. “At least it’s cooler in here, even if the air is kind of stale.”

“There’s barely any wind today.” Scott said as they looked around the rundown building. “Or maybe all the trees block it out.”

“Maybe.” Stiles muttered, his brows pulling together when he saw the gaping window high up in the walls, shards of colored stained glass clinging to the edge of the lead lining, the rest of the broken window on the floor. Other windows, devoid of glass, were intact, however. There were no pews and the flagstone floor was covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. At the front of the church was a smooth stone altar that seemed to reach up from the ground as a natural formation, that the church had been built around it. Sunlight streamed in from the intact windows and threw dusty shapes across the surface of the altar. The decorations that had once covered the walls in crude pictures of religious figures and saints had faded until they were barely noticeable. “Ok, let me get this tunic off. Hope you’re ok with me just being in my t-shirt and trunks?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, sure, whatever makes you comfortable.” Scott nodded quickly. “I can take my tunic off too if it makes you feel more at ease?!”

“Haha, you do look pretty hot and bothered.” Stiles laughed. “I guess neither of us are used to wearing this much wool.” He hooked his fingers into the hem of the tunic and pulled it off, tossing it onto one end of the altar as Scott followed suit. “Ahh, that’s so much better.”

“I do feel a lot freer.”

“Mmh, I would have thought they’d be comfortable since they don’t really have a shape,” Stiles said as he stretched and then shook out the front of his t-shirt. “But it’s a lot of fabric.”

“Yeah.” Scott nodded and stood with his legs slightly apart, hands on his hips. “I finally feel comfortable!”

“Hah,” Stiles smirked and tried to avoid just staring at Scott’s large bulge, his underwear seeming to enhance the shape even more. Instead he looked away and leaned on the altar’s surface. “So…”

“Did you find out some weirdness?” Scott asked as the silence dragged on between them. “Because I sure did!”

“Oh?” Stiles was still shaking his t-shirt out and Scott could smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat and the lingering traces of Stiles’ aftershave as they mixed together. “I honestly thought it would be less hot in here.”

“Dude, just take your t-shirt off!” Scott chuckled, playing it cool and gesturing between them. “I’m already practically naked!”

“Nice.” Stiles laughed and then nodded his agreement. “I suppose you’re right and there’s no one else here.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head, obscuring his face long enough for Scott to grin and rake his gaze up and down Stiles’ torso. “Ok, done.”

“Feel better?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Hmm.” _Me too!_ Scott pressed his lips together as he hungrily glanced over Stiles’ body when his friend turned around to lay his t-shirt out on the altar. _That is such a fine ass!_

“So, what did you find out?” Stiles moved away from him, seemingly studying the faded figures painted on the walls. 

“Can you tell me what braies are first?”

“Hmm? Oh, I think they’re, um, like short pants, kind of like boxers, I think.” Stiles nodded as his brows furrowed. “My character has them, they go under the tunic and then the hose goes over them if there’s enough room. The game has a very advanced wardrobe system.”

“Ah, ok, that sounds interesting.” Scott nodded and then continued. “I was talking to Axel and he explained that in the summer, wearing the braies was about all the men would wear because it would get so hot. He said that it always gets that warm around the time of the festival.”

“Why did he tell you that?”

“I said it was getting hot with all the wool.”

“Ah, so he was flirting with you?!”

“No,” Scott shook his head as Stiles smirked. “I think he was just being nice, besides weren’t the Middle Ages a repressive society?”

“So we’re told.” Stiles turned around and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t think that applies to this village, however. Something seems very off about the whole place and the people in it. I didn’t get any concrete answers, but my gut is telling me that it all has something to do with this summer festival they’re planning for.”

“It makes sense that the maypole in the village is connected to ours, right?” Scott moved into the beam of sunlight so it struck his shoulders and back, warmth spreading across his bare skin. “I was speaking to those teenagers who were at the inn earlier; Thestor and Godric are their names. They were saying that they erected the maypole this morning, must have been around the time we touched the one back in Beacon Hills.”

“Perhaps.”

“So what if the maypole is some sort of supernatural object or a beacon or something?” Scott chewed his lip as Stiles nodded to himself. “Does that mean we were brought here on purpose?”

“That could be a problem.” Stiles leaned against the altar, facing Scott, and stretching his legs out in front of him. “They seem to associate this festival with fertility and blessings received from their god. I don’t think that _their_ god is the same one that was worshiped here.”

“What sort of blessings?”

“Like I said, fertility; apparently lots of women got pregnant over the summer last year and gave birth in the winter and early spring.”

“I haven’t seen any children other than the teenagers helping out.” Scott frowned. “Maybe they’re all inside?”

“Maybe.” Stiles shook his head. “We’re missing a piece.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if this is part of it,” Scott began as Stiles glared at the floor in frustration. “But Thestor and Godric said that one of the Elders and his wife died last year, around this time, I think.”

“Go on.”

“They were making a joke out of it, but she seemed to be a lot younger than the Elder and they were…you know, doing it when they died.” Scott gestured vaguely in the air, stopping when Stiles looked sharply at him. “What?”

“They died at the exact same time? Did you learn anything else?”

“Axel interrupted their story, but I got the impression that they died outside, maybe even at the maypole.”

“So…” Stiles began to pace back and forth. “We have a fertility festival, blessing of children-but no sign of them or the women- a ritual site of a tall pole with obvious phallic symbolism. Two dead-one young, one old-an interesting circular nature to that, and then an increase in temperature so much that wearing almost nothing is common. Scott, I think we might be in the middle of a sex cult and they’re about to make an offering to their god.”

“What?!” Scott stared at him. “Do I want to know why you think we’re here then?”

“Probably not.” Stiles hummed under his breath as he continued pacing. “There is something else though, gah! It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue, damn it!”

“So, wait, you’re saying that they’re pagans or something?”

“Yes, that makes sense; the run-down church, the focus on fertility, the symbolism in the maypole, the two who died-maybe they were even sacrificed.” He paused and shook his head. “I still feel like we’re missing something.”

“Well, this is a bad time to visit the Middle Ages!” Scott forced a laugh, stopping when Stiles’ expression changed, and he stared at him. “What?”

“Visit!” Stiles exclaimed and grinned at Scott. “The Visitor!”

“I don’t…what?”

“This morning at the inn, Helga said they kept their best room for ‘the Visitor’ who comes at this time of year.” He explained, talking quickly as Scott moved closer to him. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but from all accounts of those I’ve spoken to, they haven’t had any travellers or traders from the outside world in years. So who is the person that comes to visit each summer festival?”

“Oh, you think that the Visitor is a creature or a supernatural?” Scott nodded excitedly. “That makes so much sense! But how does this creature or person ensure the weather changes each year? That their plants grow? That the women get pregnant?”

“That part I’m not sure of.” Stiles admitted. “And I’m equally not sure if we want to stay around to find out.”

“I don’t know, we should find out more information, and a way back of course.” Scott replied, leaning back against the edge of the altar next to Stiles. _It sounds kinda exciting though, I’m curious what this being is, what it looks like. Also, a sex cult, kinda kinky!_ He glanced at Stiles, his friend staring off into the distance, clearly thinking. Scott used the opportunity to run his eyes over Stiles’ pale skin, the hard definition of his abs and stomach, the angled obliques, the slight jutting of his pectoral muscles and the small, dime sized nipples that adorned them. _God damn, he’s so good looking!_

Scott meant to pull his gaze away when Stiles moved slightly, as he had always done in the past to avoid detection, but for some reason he was too slow this time and Stiles caught him. Silently they locked gazes and Stiles arched his brows slightly, ever unreadable, even to Scott. They stood next to each other as the moment stretched from awkwardness into something else, but suddenly Stiles grunted and winced, breaking their eye contact. “Stiles?! Are you ok?”

“Ah, yeah, I just feel light-headed.” He rubbed the palm of his hand over his forehead. “I haven’t been drinking as much water as I usually do on hot days like today. I couldn’t tell if it was clean or not.”

“Hmm, come back here.” Scott took his free arm and used his other hand to lean Stiles against the altar, gripping his shoulder reassuringly. “Ok, let’s just rest a minute.”

“Thanks, I don’t know what came over me.” Stiles muttered and wiped his brow before looking over at Scott. “Is it just me or is it actually getting _hotter_ in here?”

“I thought so, but that doesn’t make sense.” Scott kept his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, although he relaxed his grip and gently massaged him instead. “It’s hot, it’s dry, and…I’m getting this really strange scent.”

“Like spice and lavender?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I understand you smelling it, why am I smelling it too?” Stiles frowned and his tongue pushed out, licking his dry lips. Scott’s gaze darted to the action and then he moved closer to Stiles, their bare thighs touching, Scott’s massaging hand turning into a possessive grip on his shoulder. “Err, I-”

“It’s ok.” Scott whispered as they grew ever closer, looking into each other’s eyes. He could smell more changes to the air between them; a potent incense that he couldn’t identify, but one which caused his cock to swell to its full length. His trunks were pushed outwards obscenely, but Scott didn’t care at this point. All of the lust and desire that had been hidden since they entered the church came welling up to the surface-perhaps even from the times before that when Scott had first realized he looked at Stiles with something more than just friendly affection. 

They didn’t speak, each inching closer to the other until finally, Stiles closed his eyes and his trembling lips pressed against Scott’s own. It was gentle at first, a tentative action as if both were cautious about the change they were about to make to their relationship. But as Scott pressed his tongue against the barred gates of Stiles’ lips, he felt the other guy give way and the moment that their tongues brushed against the other, sparks cascaded down his spine. 

He moved quickly, pulling Stiles against him, their engorged cocks rubbing against each other through the fabric of their underwear, precum slick material drawing pleasured moans from their throats. They continued to kiss even as Scott pushed down his and Stiles’ underwear, freeing their cocks to finally press and touch; Stiles rocking into him as Scott moved in the opposite direction. Stiles’ hands were clutching Scott’s back, pulling him hard against him one moment, the next moment was consumed with Stiles’ hands roving across Scott’s body, lingering on the strong muscles of his arms, and slipping between their bodies to feel the hardness of his friend’s abs. “Mmh!”

“Sit on the altar.” Stiles said when they finally broke apart from their passionate kiss, faces flushed and Stiles’ lips feeling tender and deliciously bruised. “Go on, there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

“Yeah? You going to fuck me?!” Scott breathed excitedly, his eagerness falling when Stiles frowned.

“Uh, that wasn’t how I expected this to go down, but, uh, sure, I’m happy to top.” Stiles smirked when Scott grinned again. “But first, I really want to suck your cock.”

“Uh, ok!” Scott blinked at Stiles’ frankness. _Ok, but then again, we are both naked in an abandoned church in the middle of the fifteenth century, maybe being honest about what he wants is a good thing!_ “Err, have you done this before?”

“Oh, yeah.” Stiles grinned at him as Scott eased himself up onto the altar, sitting upright as Stiles came closer. “I thought you would have known that already.”

“Yeah, I guess, I just…” Scott paused and gasped when Stiles wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped it up and down slowly. “Uh, I just tried not to think of the other guys.”

“Hah, you mean Ryan?”

“Hill Valley high’s QB? Yeah, him.” Scott shuddered as Stiles continued to jerk him off with slow, even strokes. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Hmm,” Stiles moved his hand from the base of Scott’s thick cock all the way up to the head, pulling the foreskin back over his slit and drawing out a fresh spill of precum. He let it build up inside the hood before moving his hand down again and letting the glistening juice cascade down Scott’s cock. “Aw, yeah, that’s what I like to see! That’s how I know you’re enjoying it! And, Scott, I can’t wait to taste you!”

“Stiles-! Oh! Ah!” Scott grunted and pushed his hips upwards by instinct as Stiles lowered his head and took Scott’s cock into his mouth, leaving his hand on the shaft to continue working more of the length in between his lips. “Oh, fuck yeah!”

Stiles kept going lower, his lips eventually managing to reach the base of Scott's cock, although he held the position only for a few seconds before he gagged, spit mixing with precum as he withdrew. "Mmmh, you do taste good!"

"Fuck, Stiles, you're really good at this!" Scott moaned, leaning back on the surface of the altar as Stiles resumed sucking him to half length, the wet sounds of the blow job making Scott tremble as he sought to stave off his cumshot. _It’s too soon! Far too soon!_ He glanced down over the side and grinned when he noticed Stiles was working his own cock with his free hand. Stiles’ dick was long and straight, with just enough swell on his glans to make Scott's ass clench in anticipation of it being inside him. "Aw, yeah, Stiles!"

"Spread your legs a bit," Stiles whispered, pulling off him for a moment. "I want to play with your ass."

"Fuck!" Scott groaned louder and eager planted his feet further apart, his taint and entrance were now more fully exposed. Anxiety tapped at him and Scott raised his head to look down as Stiles jerked him off for a few seconds. "Hey, um, I don't...you know, groom down there all that often, is it ok?"

"It's perfect, super-erotic actually!" Stiles grinned and him and raised up the hand that was jerking his own cock, his fingers gleaming with his precum. He slipped his fingers into Scott's ass crack and wiggled them forward until he reached his hole, the index finger pressing at the hot entrance and beginning to lube Scott up. 

"Why is it hot?" Scott frowned at him even as he felt Stiles' fingers breach him again. "The, ah! The only time I saw Ryan in his swimsuit was that time at Lydia's birthday pool party and he looked pretty smooth all the way down. Fuck, that feels good!"

"Scott, that was him, this is you. And I'm telling you I like what you got." Stiles smiled reassuringly. "Besides, you trim your pubes and other than your pits, your chest and stomach are smooth; I think that's why it's such a turn-on; great contrast."

"Oh, ok, that's-fuck!" Scott lurched forward as Stiles pushed two of his fingers into Scott's ass, freshly loaded with his precum. "Oh, god, Stiles! I'm already close to the edge!"

"Already? Mmh, I like needy Scott!" He grinned and flexed his fingers, pulling fresh moans from Scott before returning to milk the werewolf's cock for more precum. "We're short on lube, so we're gonna have to make do."

"Oh man, that _is_ hot!" Scott groaned eagerly.

“Ok, get on your knees and move forward; this will be the easiest position to start off in.” Stiles said, motioning for Scott to turn over as he cupped the fresh precum in his other hand. “That’s it, arch your ass up for me, let your cock leak onto the altar. Hang on, I’ll get up there with you.”

“Aw, yeah, Stiles!” Scott groaned below him as Stiles knelt down on the smooth stone, his free hand massaging Scott’s ass cheeks. “Uh, this is going to be so good!”

“Yeah, it is!” Stiles grinned and tipped his cupped hand so the precum slipped out and trailed down Scott’s crack. He pushed his fingers in to interrupt the flow and then pressed the slick digits against Scott’s hole, opening his ass a little more, the sweat from Scott’s body made the area slicker and easier to access- the air was stifling. Stiles milked more precum from his own cock, although it wasn’t as bountiful as Scott’s which had already created a small puddle on the rock under him. He slicked the clear liquid across his head and shaft before kneeling upright and positioning his cock close to Scott’s ass. “You ready? Don’t wolf out too much on me.”

“I’ll try.”

“Hmm, a little might be ok!” Stiles smirked again and shuffled forward, feeling the heat from the smooth globes of Scott ass caress his dick before he pressed into the warmer tangle and then through, his cock head resting comfortably against the opening. He could feel Scott’s asshole clenching and releasing and when he felt the next relaxation of the hole, Stiles plunged forward, grunting as he buried his cock in Scott’s ass. “Oh yeah!”

“Fuck, yes!” Scott roared in a deep voice that echoed off the walls of the church. Instead of pulling away from Stiles as he might have thought to do originally, Scott instead rammed back against Stiles and grunted in pleasured pain when he felt the full length of Stiles’ cock filling his ass. “Aw, yeah.” He moaned, quieter now as Stiles started moving in and out of him. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah, for me too.” Stiles muttered. _I didn’t think he’d be this tight!_ “Oh, yeah!” He groaned when Scott clenched his ass around Stiles’ cock, the motion making the withdrawal delightfully difficult. Stiles kept his hands on Scott’s hips, pulling his hot, eager hole back into his cock even as he swing his own hips back and forth, his dick pounding in and out of Scott’s ass like a piston. 

“Uh! Uh! Uh!” Scott gasped, losing himself in the sensations as Stiles slipped into a steady rhythm. He kept his back as arched as much as he could, letting Stiles control the rate at which his ass was impaled. His own cock was still rock hard, the shaft wet with precum even as more of it dribbled out and pooled under him. “Fuck, Stiles! I really want to jerk off now!”

“Ok, turn over onto your back,” Stiles agreed and paused, his cock half-way inside Scott’s now open and slick asshole. “I want to watch you cumming anyway. Plus, it’ll probably be easier to clean up afterwards if I pull out and cum on your chest, huh?!” He winked as Scott moaned needily and crawled forward, Stiles’ cock slipping out with a wet sound. “Mmh, if you could see your ass right now, Scott!”

“Yeah? It feels pretty good, but, uh, kinda empty.” Scott replied, rolling onto his back. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll fill you back up!” Stiles smirked and moved closer to him. “Show me that tight hole, Scott!”

“Uh, ok, hang on.” Scott rubbed his hands down over his chest for a moment, grinning when he saw how Stiles’ eyes lit up when his fingers glanced against the dark brown nubs of his hard nipples. The stone of the altar was hot against his skin and he reached down to pull his legs up, exposing his ass to Stiles. “Like that?”

“Perfect.” Stiles purred, gazing at the gaping darkness surrounded by flushed skin, the area around it slick with a mix of sweat and precum. He pulled his cock head up and down the valley before thrusting himself inside Scott again, this time not waiting to take it slowly. He grinned when Scott groaned loudly and braced himself on Scott’s shoulders, bringing them closer together. Stiles could feel Scott’s hard cock drooling against his abs as he moved back and forth, the slickness from his precum acting like lube, and judging from the now-constant moans coming from Scott’s throat, he was close to shooting for real. “Hold out for another few minutes.”

“I’ll try.” Scott breathed, clenching his ass muscles around Stiles’ solid heat, nodding when his friend gasped and increased his speed despite the resistance. He opened his eyes and blinked in surprise as the world was transformed into a familiar bloodied hue, a different sort of heat burning in his transformed eyes. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s cool.” Stiles smiled reassuringly at him and adjusted his grip, his hands moving from Scott’s shoulders onto his chest, his fingers splaying out across his tanned skin. He made sure to position his hands so that they covered Scott’s firm pectoral muscles and his fingers were able to play with Scott’s hard nipples just a little.

“Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Scott gasped, the extra stimulation too much for him. He arched his back and pressed down with his ass, pushing Stiles’ cock as far into his hole as possible. Scott groaned loudly as his cock spasmed and quaked, thick spurts of cum jetting out of his dick and filling the space between them. Creamy cum dripped from Stiles’ abs onto Scott’s navel and flowed around his still twitching cock as he gasped, the air stolen from his lungs. “Oh, fuck, that was crazy, Stiles!”

“Yeah, it is.” Stiles grunted and pulled out of Scott’s hole. “I always wondered what your face looked like when you came!” He jerked his cock furiously, aiming it towards Scott’s dick as it leaked its last droplets onto his stomach. Stiles looked up and down his friend’s body, committing it all to memory; the content-yet excited-expression on Scott’s face, the way his chest heaved with exertion, the smoothness of his dark skin covered in a sheen of sweat and cum, the way his asshole was still visible between his slack legs, the entrance slick with sweat and precum and now his own cum was dribbling down his taint to pool on the stone beneath it. “Aw, fuck, so hot!”

For a moment Stiles wanted to gather Scott’s cum with his dick and then push back inside his friend and just deliver his load there. But the thought alone proved too much, and Stiles moaned loudly, unloading his cock with a few final frantic jerks. His cum flew over Scott’s stomach and splattered across his cheeks, catching the werewolf by surprise. The next volley hit a little lower, painting Scott’s still hard nipples with cum before the final torrent was expelled onto Scott’s cock. “Fuckkkk!”

“Aw, awesome, Stiles!” Scott grinned encouragingly and reached out to pull Stiles against him, his hands gripping Stiles’ ass cheeks lightly. He moaned appreciatively when their cum-covered dicks ground against each other’s and Stiles responded by frotting along the length of Scott’s cock until he collapsed on top on Scott entirely. They kissed again, each seeming to savor the moment just as much as the other.

“That was incredible.” Scott whispered as they sat up a few minutes later. He used his trunks to clean the cum off his face and chest as Stiles nodded slowly. “You came a lot, dude, that was impressive!”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been pretty frustrated since breaking up with Ryan a few weeks ago.” Stiles shrugged and searched around for his own underwear.

“This isn’t going to change things between us, is it?”

“What? No, no, of course not.” Stiles shook his head and glanced at him. “At least, not in a bad way. You clearly wanted to do it.”

“For a while now, I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship in case it got weird.” Scott offered him a hopeful smile. “Plus, you had a boyfriend, you guys were happy for a while, it wasn’t the right time.”

“Heh, strange that the _right_ time turns out to be nearly six hundred years ago!”

“For sure!” Scott agreed with a chuckle. He tensed for a moment and looked around the forgotten church. 

“What is it?” Stiles glanced at the door to the outside. “Were we seen?”

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head and then put on his underwear, gesturing for Stiles to get dressed. “We might have been heard; we got pretty loud and there is an echo in here. But I just…I thought I saw someone, something in the shadows, over there.”

“Yeah, it’s like there’s this…presence almost.” Stiles walked towards the corner that Scott pointed to, halting a few steps away. “We should clean up, return to the inn.”

“Hmm, ok.” Scott peered into the shadows again, even switching to his werewolf eyes, but there was nothing there except dusty stone. “Hey, you don’t think we did something wrong here? Like, uh…”

“Defiled their house of worship?” Stiles laughed and shook his head. “I think that had been done long ago, Scott. Why else would it be boarded up?”

“Sure, sure.” He readily agreed and took one last, lustful look at Stiles’ body before he put on his tunic. _I can’t believe we actually had sex! And it was a thousand times better than all those fantasies I had! Even if we get stuck in this time period, well, at least I’ll have Stiles all to myself._ Scott licked his lips as the thoughts swirled around in his head. “Ok, let’s go.”


	4. The Visitor Arrives

Stiles looked up when he heard approaching footsteps coming along the well-worn path that led to the rocky overlook behind the village. “Hey, Scott. I’m over here.”

“Yeah, I see you.” Scott smiled as he approached, eventually settling down on the edge of the cliff, fast flowing water rushing under them after looking around for somewhere a little safer. “I thought you were just going to talk to the Elder again, see if you could find out anything new?”

“I was, and I’m almost certain that our arrival here mere days before their big festival was no coincidence.” Stiles shook his head. “But before I could get into it in more detail, the hunting party returned. No sign of the bandits, of course.”

“Hmm.” Scott grunted. “Were they acting suspicious about that?”

“No, but I think they should have been.” He sighed. “There would have been no fire, no tracks, no scattered equipment, and skilled hunters like them should have commented on that.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles dragged his fingers through the loose scree between them and picked up a handful of gravel. He weighed it in his palm and then flung it out towards the river, the impacts lost in the swirl of the rushing water. “But the Elder insisted that we remain for the festival, that he was taking it personally that we were robbed on their lands, that we should stay for another few days before returning home.”

“You think that’s suspicious?” Scott asked, wrinkling his nose as Stiles’ scent filled with conflicting emotions. “Or not?”

“I’m not sure what to think.” He shrugged. “Have you detected anything among the people you spoke to? Any inclination of the supernatural?”

“Nothing. I know that it’s not always so obvious; how many people do we know in Beacon Hills with secret supernatural identities?” Scott laughed as Stiles grunted again. “Ok, so we’re staying for this festival?”

“We have to, and even if there was another choice, I’m telling you that our way home is through that maypole, or maybe the one in the forest.” Stiles hummed. “All that matters is getting back and hoping that we didn’t disrupt the timeline too much.”

“Ok, ok, we will.” Scott made to put his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, but Stiles moved away at the gesture. “Err, we’re alone.”

“I know, it’s not that, I just…” Stiles glanced quickly at him. “Let’s just pump the brakes a little, ok?”

“I wasn’t going to make a move on you before you left for college.”

“Scott, it’s not about what happened at the church.” Stiles replied firmly as Scott lowered his eyes. “I want to stay focused on figuring out getting home, I assume you want that too?”

“Of course.” Scott said quickly. “What we did this afternoon was a lot of fun and I know it was probably too fast, too much so soon after…Ryan, but I just want to…when we’re back home…”

“Let’s just worry about getting home first, ok?”

“Ok.” Scott stood up and prepared to go back inside the village’s walls. “Are you coming?”

“I want to think some more, I’ll meet you back at the inn.”

“Yeah, ok.”

Scott took his time returning to the safety of the village even as the sun set behind the trees, throwing long, dark shadows across the fields of crops. There were a few people out and about; talking and chatting among themselves, paying him no attention. Scott stopped in front of the maypole in the village square, looking up at the polished wooden beam and the platform being built in tiered steps around it.

The dark soil surrounding the maypole had been freshly tilled, leaving a space wide enough for three people to stand in, shoulder to shoulder. The rich, earthy scent filled his nostrils as Scott hummed to himself. _Maybe we did go too fast? I wanted it, he looked and acted like he wanted it, and hell, maybe we needed that distraction. But what if…what if all Stiles is thinking about now is Ryan? Was he better than me? Could I have done something different? Did he want me to top? Stiles never told me about what they tried together, even though I hinted a few times._

Scott sighed and walked in a wide, slow circle around the maypole, his thoughts still consumed with doubts and worries. He knew why Ryan and Stiles weren’t together anymore, Stiles’ confession still triggered uncomfortable feelings of guilt whenever Scott thought about it. Pack business, supernatural goings-on, untellable secrets, it all took a toll on their friendships and relationships. Stiles kept having to lie to his regular, normal, _human_ boyfriend, kept choosing pack and Scott over him, and eventually everything just fell apart. Scott grimaced and then shook his head, barely aware that he had completed a full circuit of the maypole. “That was the past, err, future, oh, whatever. We hooked up, Stiles can be mine now.”

_He can be yours forever…_

The werewolf frowned when he thought he heard an echoing agreement on the wind, a light breeze blowing through the open gates and up to the square. But before Scott could question it, he spotted Axel approaching from the Elder’s house, a bucket of water held in each hand. “Oh, let me help you with that.”

“Thanks.” He smiled and gestured at a small cottage nestled in the crook of the walls where the fortifications made a slow bend. “That’s where I live.”

“Ah, any family? Other than your uncle, of course?” Scott took one of the pails and followed Axel over to the open door. He could see a cosy fire lit in the hearth and warm air washed over him as they entered.

“Family? No, no, we had a very bad winter three years ago.” Axel directed Scott towards the bed and small bench that was beside it. “Pour the water into the iron bowl, will you? This one is for drinking. Yes, the harvest was bad, the snows were thick, there was some food from the forest, but the river was soured by bad humors.”

“That sounds awful.” He followed the youth’s directions and then turned around to find Axel staring into the fire, his scent bitter and still strangely alluring despite-or perhaps even _because_ -of his sorrow. “Who did you lose?”

“Everyone.” He sighed. “God did not answer our prayers.”

“Hmm.” Scott nodded and discretely adjusted his hardening cock. “Um, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?” Axel pulled himself away from the fire and looked over at him.

“You mentioned earlier that it would get warmer as we go closer to the summer festival,” Scott half grinned. “Well, it was pretty warm today! I was hoping you might be able to find two braies for me and my friend? Our own are, um, travel worn.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” The youth smirked, his energy returning quickly. “I’m sure I can find what you need. And you shouldn’t be afraid to, uh, bare all if the weather demands it!”

“Really?” Scott smirked back at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The next day dawned bright and sunny, an incredible blue sky that arched overhead from one end of the clearing to the next. The sun was already hot when Scott pulled away the shutters from inside the window, the glass warm to the touch. He could see the villagers up and about, moving in groups between the maypole and another building further up the hill. “Ah, the ribbon storehouse.” Scott muttered when he recognized the place that he and Axel had been in the day before. 

He moved past the other bed where Stiles was still sleeping peacefully and unlatched the door. Scott nodded with appreciation when he found a small bundle of loose linen shorts folded neatly outside their door. Although they were rougher than the cotton underwear he was used to wearing, the linens were still lighter and smoother against his skin than the woollen tunic left on the end of his bed.

Scott returned to the room and crouched next to Stiles. He reached over and shook his shoulder. “Hey! Wake up!”

“Ugh,” Stiles mumbled irritably and rolled onto his back. “That was a lovely dream…”

“Sorry, but everyone else is already up and about.” Scott smirked at him as Stiles looked over. “You can sleep in when we’re back at home!”

“Yeah, for sure, along with never underestimating the importance of coffee again.” He sat up and then nodded at the bundle in Scott’s hands. “Change of clothes?”

“They’re the braies.”

“Oh, going native, are you?” Stiles arched a brow as Scott stripped out of his underwear and held aloft one pair quizzically. “They’re just like boxers, dude, put them on.”

“Not exactly flattering.” Scott muttered once he had donned them. He turned to and fro, trying to view them for himself. The material hung freely to just above his kneecaps, but they were surprisingly light and easy to move in. There was a long slot at the front and Scott reached inside, smirking at Stiles. “Yup! Easy access!”

“Haha, at least the tunic covers most of it; don’t want to scandalize the locals!”

“I don’t think they’d mind.” Scott shrugged and tossed him the other pair as Stiles pursed his lips. “We should blend in, and besides, these are really nice and airy. Considering how hot yesterday got, I want to be prepared, so should you.”

“Fine, fine.” Stiles grumbled and got out of bed. “Since you’re already up and about, can you go down to Helga and get something for breakfast; I need to use the chamber pot.”

“Err, yeah, you might want to empty it first, err. Don’t worry, it’s pee!” Scott grimaced uneasily when Stiles threw him a murderous look. “I didn’t want to go outside last night!”

“You have werewolf vision, you can see in the dark!”

“Sorry.”

“Just go, just go.” Stiles sighed. “And if Axel is around, tell him I want to talk to the Elder again, say I want to get our bearings towards the nearest big town when we leave in a few days.”

“Really?” Scott frowned.

“No, of course not.” He shrugged when Scott lingered in the doorway. “I need the excuse to press him on more details about our potential way back home.”

“Ok, I’ll get on that.”

After they had eaten, Scott and Stiles went in search of the Elder, having seen no one at the inn other than Helga and her young helper. They did not have to go far however, the man and his wife were on the other side of the square, directing the villagers bringing things to the maypole. Axel was standing a little way off, hands on his hips as he barked orders at the other young men who were collecting building supplies and carrying in lumber from the forest. Scott recognized Thestor and Godric, nodding over at them when they passed with a bundle of planks and coils of rope, both youths already stripped down to their braies, their muscular arms gleaming from exertion.

“Good morning,” Stiles called out politely. “What fine weather we’re having.”

“Indeed! And very fitting for our festival day!” The Elder smiled at them.

“I thought that was tomorrow?”

“Oh, well, it continues for a few days,” The man waved the question away and continued to smile. “Besides, with such honored guests such as your fine selves, I feel it is a sign that we share the bounty of the season with you as soon as possible.”

“Err, thanks?” Stiles glanced at Scott and then looked back at the Elder. “Although I’m not sure I’d say we were so special.”

“You are ribbon traders!”

“Um…”

“The maypole uses ribbons as a symbol for bringing the whole village together,” Axel called out, coming over to them. “You did not bring us great reams of ribbon to trade, but you did manage to save several streamers; one for each of you, certainly.”

“Hey, why don’t we add our ribbons to your maypole?” The words came out of Scott’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. 

“What a delightful idea.” Axel replied with a flash of his teeth.

“Yeah, Scott,” Stiles turned to glare at him. “ _Delightful._ ”

“Um, sure.” The werewolf muttered. _Why did I suggest that? Maybe we need them and the maypole to get home, but don’t we have to be the ones holding the ribbons?_

“Do you have them with you, the ribbons?” The Elder’s wife asked, and Scott shook his head. “Oh, well, let’s go to find them, eh? I know the perfect place for them on the maypole.”

“Stiles?” Axel said as Scott was led away by the Elder and Theresa, each of them taking one of his arms. “My uncle tells me you are very interested in our life here.”

“I suppose you could say that.”

“So, I think you are also very interested in understanding our festival?”

“Your uncle didn’t say much about it.” Stiles wetted his lips, watching as Axel nodded slowly. “But you can tell me more, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Axel inclined his head for Stiles to follow him away from the village square. “Come with me and I will tell you all you want to know.” 

“How far are we going?”

“Just away from the others, they do not need to know everything.” Axel glanced at him and Stiles frowned. “You look like a learned man, whereas your friend…he is more strength than mind, yes?”

“He’s no philosopher, if that’s what you mean.” Stiles muttered. _He speaks completely differently to the rest of them, different to how he did yesterday. Maybe I have this all wrong, maybe the supernatural creature is among us right now. I better play along._ “Scott can knock out a man with one punch, but I know how to read and write.”

“Hmm, more than these, more than anyone else here. Hmm, hmm, yes!” Axel hummed under his breath, a giddy excitement to his movements before he seemed to regain his composure. “Ah, this will do.” He gestured at an empty plot of land and waited for Stiles to move closer to the boundary wall that ran around it, out of sight from the maypole. “Good, good.”

“So, what makes your summer festival different than the ones I have been to before?” Stiles folded his arms casually. “We have travelled all over Bavaria and beyond, many villages erect maypoles.”

“Do they?” Axel smiled briefly. “Then perhaps there is little difference; we wind ribbons around the pole, dance to bring forth the summer spirit and blessings, feast around it as a symbol of our unity. And of course, many young couples take this time to see if they are as good a match as their parents think they are.”

“Hmm, there do not seem to be many older people here.” Stiles commented carefully, looking back towards the village center. “Did something happen?”

“Scott told you?”

“About the sickness, the hard winter? Yes, last night.” Stiles replied. “But it seems your fortunes have changed.”

“For now.” Axel paused, looked at him, and then continued speaking. “Some people might…this festival is often one of indulgence, something that might seem distasteful, even immoral, to an outsider. But I ask you not to judge us too harshly; the next festival day will not be until autumn comes and the time of reaping and harvesting is upon us.”

“And today is key to a bountiful harvest?” Stiles asked, unnerved when Axel’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Just so.” He smiled again, gesturing around them. “I fear it will be my uncle’s last festival day; he does not want to say it, but he is old, his body is worn out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Err, I mean, I am sorry to hear that.” Stiles explained quickly when the youth looked at him, confused. “Who will be next leader of your village?”

“He is the last Elder, the others,” Axel paused for a long second before continuing to speak. “They chose to sacrifice themselves during the winter storms so that the rest of us could live. It was a shining beacon of hope and light amongst the unending crush of darkness.”

“Oh, err, how noble.” Stiles managed as his stomach turned when he saw the horrible smile that pulled at Axel’s lips. _So what did that light attract? You?_ “A pity then that your graveyard-”

“They are buried under the maypole; so that their bones connect to the village’s celebrations in all things.”

 _Ok, that’s not sinister at all! We have got to get out of here!_ Stiles swallowed hard and looked up at the sky. The sun was creeping closer to midday, its incessant heat blasting down on them as the temperature climbed into the late eighties if not nineties. “Phew, it’s hot!”

“Yes, it is a good sign.” Axel nodded and pulled his tunic off over his head, draping it across a nearby post. “Ahhh! Glory in that heat!” He turned more fully into the sunshine and stretched his arms wide, almost as if he were attempting to hug the rays. His body was lean and yet well built, bearing an uncomfortable proximity to the guys Stiles liked to watch in porn. “Is it not a blessing in itself?”

Stiles frowned at him for a moment before the unpleasant sensation of sweat dripping down his back made him consider following Axel’s lead. “I…”

“You don’t find it hot, Stiles?” Axel turned to him and Stiles jumped backwards. The youth’s face was still the same, but his eyes had shifted into large green orbs, a spiderweb of orange fire pulsing through each iris. His ears were faintly pointed, and the echo of hooves shimmered against his bare feet before they solidified into human form. Axel reached out and trailed a hand down Stiles’ chest, the motion leaving sweltering pressure on his skin. “Why don’t you take it off? Stay comfortable! Stay free! Revel in the beauty of those around you!”

“What-what are you?!” Stiles stammered even as his heart thundered in his chest and fever-like heat racked his entire body. Axel just smiled at him and spread his hands, the air shimmering before him. “Fuck it!” Stiles grunted and pulled his tunic over his head, tossing the sweat-soaked woollen garment to one side, his t-shirt was next, and the finally, he was standing in front of Axel, naked save for his braies. “Satisfied?”

“Almost.” The creature smiled again, the space behind him shuddering and quaking as though he was bending reality to his whim. “You will enjoy tonight’s festival, you will awaken Scott’s true nature and let it consume you.”

“I-I…” Stiles stuttered, his resistance crumbling as a tall figure emerged behind Axel, shrouded in darkness, its hands held aloft in mimicry of the branches of a tree. “I won’t!”

“You _will_!” Axel hissed, sharp, pointed teeth replacing his handsome smile. “My master has worked too long and too hard for you to disrupt our plans now. You will mount the werewolf, he will spill his seed inside you, and finally the circle will be complete!”

“Ahhh!” Stiles yelled, backing away as the two creatures advanced towards him. “No! No, Sco-” His scream was cut off when the shadow reached out with a third hand and touched a finger to his chest. A lattice of black ink spread out from the point of contact and wrapped around Stiles’ ribs, two points diverging to race north towards his face and mouth, another two heading south, rippling along his smooth navel to bury themselves in his crotch, his cock instantly hardening with a bead of precum slicking the tip. “Uh! I…I obey.”

“Excellent, there are none who can resist our power.” Axel smiled, his teeth returning to normal as his eyes flickered and became their mild hue again. The shadow that had been behind him vanished as soon as it had touched Stiles, and the air became slightly cooler, the oppressive heat lessening. “So, Stiles, would you like to go and see how Scott is getting along with the other preparations?”

“Sure.” Stiles nodded, throwing his tunic to one side, no longer concerned about being only in loose shorts. “I feel a little dizzy though.”

“Ah, must be the sun, you should have some water when we get back to the maypole,” Axel gestured for them to leave. “The others will have everything brought out by now, even if we have to help them set it up.”

“Oh, Scott can help with that, he’s very strong.” He replied, looking down at the square where most of the village were working away. Stiles noticed that most of them were now wearing little, if any, clothing, but he wasn’t sure why that was important. “Um.”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, I just see Scott down there,” Stiles shook his head as another wave of pressure passed over him. “I’ll, uh, go and tell him we need his muscles-and I’ll get a drink, don’t worry.”

“Excellent.” Axel murmured, “I would hate if our visitor felt poorly on tonight of all nights.”

“Uh, let it down gently,” Scott called out as he helped Godric move one of the large oak tables into position around the maypole and its platform. “Yeah, there it is, that’s good.”

“Agreed.” The young man nodded and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Like most of the villagers moving furniture around, he had stripped out of his tunic before they got started, now his tanned skin was smooth and shiny from exertion, his braies hiked up his thighs so they better resembled briefs. “You’re strong, Scott.”

“Thanks.” Scott smiled and raised one arm, flexing his bicep before laughing shortly. “You have strength enough yourself.”

“Hmm, let’s get those stools from the inn next.” Godric replied, gesturing for him to follow.

 _He is actually pretty strong, not supernaturally so, just hard muscles from hard labor, and probably a hard cock to go with it all!_ Scott thought to himself as they walked across the dry grass towards the inn. He cast his eyes over the youth’s muscular back and then looked away before he got caught. Stiles hadn’t returned from his conversation with Axel yet, but Scott didn’t wait to confer with him about whether they should act conservative or not. And when he did take off his clothes down to the braies, no one objected, instead, there were approving nods from the women and envious glances from the men.

They passed through the door to the inn’s interior, now occupied by about a dozen women and babies-the ones Stiles had said were conspicuously absent the day before. Scott smiled and nodded whenever they made eye contact. He followed Godric into the back room and then through the kitchen to a storeroom. One side was given over to kegs of ale and beer, several dozen wheels of cheese, and an assortment of smoked and cured meats hanging from hooks. Fish were gathered in three baskets, freshly caught from the newness of their scent and the glisten of water on their silver scales.

“Here.” Godric pointed at the other side of the store room; stacks of stools and chairs sitting next to each other. “I’ll get some of the others to give us a hand, you start with those.”

“Uh, yes, I’ll do that.” Scott muttered, remembering their puzzled expressions from that morning when he told them he was ‘on it.’ Despite the heat outside, it was a lot cooler in the storeroom and Scott shivered slightly. He paused when he bent over to retrieve the chairs. _What was that? I thought I heard a noise._ Scott frowned and stood back up, the chairs in hand. “Must have been nothing.”

As he emerged into the bright sunshine once more, Godric, Thestor, and several other village boys passed him, but Scott looked beyond them towards the top of the village where he had thought he heard the strange sound. There was nothing unusual there, only the figures of Stiles and Axel walking back towards them. _Oh! Looks like Stiles is feeling the heat too! Mmh, those baggy braies do his big dick no favors, but his abs are clenching just the right way! And look at Axel, what a stud!_ Scott braced the chairs against his thigh as he tried to adjust his hardon. It was difficult, but he forced the thick shaft upwards and trapped it against his body with the cord of the braies rubbing painfully along the sensitive glans.

By the time he had to put down the chairs, Scott was able to move freely without the tip of his cock poking out of the waistband. He waved over to Stiles and grinned at him as Axel came over too. “Hi!”

“You’ve made a lot of progress.” Stiles nodded approvingly. “It’s noon already.”

“The zenith of the day!” Axel smiled between them and looked around as a hot wind began to stir the ribbons where they had been gathered on a table. “Yes, indeed, once the food is brought out, the feasting can begin, then we dance around the maypole!”

“I thought that was tonight?” Scott frowned at him. “We’re starting sooner?”

“Time flies when you’re feasting.” Axel smirked again and then shrugged. “The dancing is for everyone, but the blessings can only be received by those who…did not receive them last summer festival.”

“Those who had children?” Stiles asked, wandering over to the ribbon table. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Scott nodded, his gaze slipping past Axel to linger on Stiles’ back. 

“Let me go and see where Helga is on the food aspect, hmm?” Axel clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner and moved away.

“Sure.” Scott muttered and went around him to join Stiles at the table. “No longer concerned about appearances?”

“No, I think we’re alright.” Stiles glanced at him and then down at the ribbon pile. “You looked at these yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, ours are in there too, I hope that’s ok?”

“It might be for the best; it is probably our way home.” Stiles nodded slowly, his hands slowly drawing out several green, yellow, and orange ribbons. “Some of these are badly frayed, but others look brand new.”

“So? Axel said they had made their own-”

“With machine grade smoothness?” Stiles arched a brow at him. “That seems unlikely. I wonder…were there others before us?”

“Other what?” Scott frowned again. “You look hot, come and sit down, I’ll find you something to drink.”

“Scott,” Stiles’ hand grabbed his wrist. “I have a bad feeling about what’s going to happen tonight.”

“Relax, I’ll protect you.” Scott smiled reassuringly at him, trailing his hands eagerly over Stiles’ abs up to his pecs. “Now come on!”

“Ah, our visitors!” The Elder’s voice boomed out behind them. “Settling well into village life, eh?!”

“I, uh, you’re not wearing any clothes.” Scott mumbled, averting his gaze to Theresa before realizing that she too was undressed. He looked over their heads instead. “Um, we’re not _that_ comfortable yet.”

“Oh, do not be so modest,” The Elder eyed him up and smiled eagerly. “The delight of the male form is to be admired and is best when _fresh_ and bursting with youthful vitality!”

“Something that must be appreciated at every turn!” Theresa added, trailing a hand down her own body towards her navel. “Especially with skin such as yours; so dark and sensual, already dripping with desire. Come, let me show you how to take that final step towards freedom!”

“Um, Stiles?” Scott backed away, muttering under his breath at his friend. “I thought you said this was a fertility festival!”

“Well, maybe they’re just getting comfortable.” He whispered in response. “A village this small, they’re all bound to see each other naked at some point. And I did mention that they could be sex cultists.”

“Uh huh, why are you so calm?” Scott looked back at him, but Stiles was sorting through the ribbons again as if nothing was amiss. “Um, let me get you that water.”

Night came early and the breeze that had fluttered about all day turned into a strengthening gale, but other than ruffling hair and causing the ribbons to dance and twirl, the effects were muted by the dense forest and guardian walls of the settlement. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and the warmth from faraway sands, a vibrant echo of the lingering heat that draped across the village like a decadent lover. Braziers had been carried out and set up in a pentagram around the square, charcoal burning brightly within as sweet smelling herbs charred on the embers.

Scott and Stiles had remained together throughout the feasting part of the festival, sampling the dishes placed around them, Scott drinking the wine and ale openly while Stiles only took sips, trying to maintain his concentration and sobriety as the night descended around them. Likewise, they stayed in their braies, comfortably hot together, although as the evening wore on and the couples with children withdrew from the square, the Elder and his wife were not alone in their nakedness. 

Laughter and chatter filled the air until the Elder rose from his seat in the center of the long line of oaken tables. He held aloft a tankard and in his other hand was a flower garland. “Friends, brothers, sisters, honored guests!” The Elder bowed his head briefly towards Stiles and Scott. “The time for the maypole dance is upon us. Our glorious Herald, Axel, shall lead us in this rite and guide the offered blessings into those most deserving. Rise! Rise, everyone! Show that you are deserving! Show that you are willing to accept His blessings!”

“C’mon, Scott.” Stiles urged him upright and kept a grip on his bicep.

“Are you sure?” Scott glanced at him as Godric and Thestor next to them whooped and cavorted, the flickering of the braziers casting light and shadow across their muscular bodies and swinging endowments. _Woah, they’re hung!_ He didn’t resist as Stiles led him over to the maypole, the blue of the nearby ribbon stealing his attention from the naked bodies on all sides. “Wait, are these our ones?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered, an excited gleam in his eye as he caught the red one next to Scott. “Our ticket home, remember?”

“Yeah, of course.” Scott nodded and wrapped the ribbon around his hand and wrist as Stiles was doing. “Should you be in front of me?”

“I don’t think the order matters; it’s a circle. I’m both behind you and in front of you.” Stiles explained as the other villagers took their places. The Elder and his wife were just a few bodies ahead of them, while Godric was behind Scott and Thestor in front of Stiles. Axel, however, remained apart from the circle. He had changed from his linen braies into a more ceremonial looking robe with elaborate decorations and a wide opening in the middle running from his collarbones to just below his navel, revealing a smooth expanse of skin and muscle. “Scott?”

“Yeah?” He pulled his gaze from Axel’s body and met Stiles’ eye. “What is it?”

“I don’t know what’s about to happen,” Stiles whispered. “But try and stay alert.”

“Got it.” Scott nodded as the Elder smiled at them all, his wife now wearing the flower garland. _Please just get us home!_

“All have gathered who are worthy,” Axel intoned, his hands raised above his head, the light, shimmering material of his robe falling down his arms to pool around his shoulders. “All who yearn to receive Your gift, Your blessing, Your power! Hear our call, master, hear our desire to accept You into our lives! On this pyre of wood and flesh, on this ground of fertile soil and the bones of ancestors, on this offering of willing youth and boundless _eros_. I ask you to come among us, join in our dance, and be liberated unto the world once more!”

“What is he talking about?” Scott muttered to Stiles who answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “Oh, looks like we’re moving.”

Slowly, they began to circle the maypole, silent at first, and then Scott began to hear a soft invocation. It sounded as though it was coming from all sides, not merely around him, but above him, below him, even inside his own head. Without realizing it, Scott began to chant the words too, syllables slipping over each other, phrases that twisted his tongue and pulled deep noises from his throat. The language was soon beyond mere words, transforming into emotions, desires, despairs, agonies, lusts, rage and power, strength and despondency, virtue and wickedness. 

No longer were they walking around the maypole, guided by the chant, by Axel’s sonorous voice leading them, now they were dancing! Leaping! Jumping! Sttraining against the tight ribbons that kept them bound to the maypole. Sweat ran down their bodies and Scott felt an overwhelming urge for freedom. Without warning, his claws sprang out and he shredded Stiles’ braies to linen streamers, doing the same to his own without conscious thought. They retracted a moment later when Stiles looked back at Scott, not with concern, but with an unbridled lust and desire in his eyes that Scott knew he _had_ to sate.

The chant too was shifting and changing, its emotional tone refining from a spectrum of voices to single, unified howling. The note raced through them all, the revellers’ bodies bucking and lurching in erotic fashion until their voices returned to their own. Joy-filled screams and shouts rent the air, animalistic panting and groaning followed swiftly as the dancers halted in their mad circuit of the maypole. 

Without warning, the villagers collided with those nearest them, erupting into an orgy of unfettered indulgence and lust: men and women, women and women, men and men, in twos, and threes, even fours. It made no difference to age or friendship: desire triumphed all previous concerns. Scott could see the Elder pounding deep into his wife, her face twisted in pleasure. He could see Godric slamming himself against one of the farm workers, their cocks frotting in a frenzy of desire. Ahead of him, Thestor was fucking another youth while he fingered two others beside him, ribbons stretching around their bodies in erotic patterns.

He turned his attention towards Axel, eyes widening when he saw the change that had come over the youth; his skin was still smooth and even, like marble or alabaster, almost too perfect as it gleamed in the light thrown off from the flames around them. But his eyes were glowing with a green fire unlike anything Scott had seen before. A darkness moved at his back, a flickering void with faint glimmers of malevolent stars. His face was more drawn now, as though he was using his energy to maintain the lust that had consumed the villagers. Axel looked up, his unearthly green eyes meeting Scott’s own and he said something that was lost among the moaning and panting and groaning around them.

The ribbon tightened on Scott’s wrist, and his gaze was dragged back to Stiles, his friend simply standing there as though nothing strange was happening. Scott began to say something when his eyes drifted further south along the pale skin of Stiles’ back, his attention locking onto Stiles’ perky butt in front of him. His ass cheeks were smooth and bouncy, looking as though one would fit in each of Scott’s hands as he pulled Stiles’ asshole open for his cock. “Ooooh!” Scott groaned loudly as desire flooded his mind and his dick sprang to full hardness, slapping against his navel with a juicy splat. 

“Go on, Scott,” Stiles muttered, leaning forward so his ass was more prominent in Scott’s view. “I know you want to! I know you want to give in to the desire ablaze all around us, I know you’ve lusted after me for months! I know you fantasize about all the things we could do together, I know you _dream_ about burying your thick cock in my tight ass and wonder what it would be like. Dream no more!” He reached back with both hands and spread his cheeks.

“Gahhh!” Scott gasped, his eyes fixed onto the smooth valley and encroaching rosiness of Stiles hole, anointed with sweat and overwhelmingly inviting. There was something tugging at the edge of his consciousness however, some irritating thought that would not leave him alone to enjoy the view he had been denied so long. Scott shook his head and laid his fingers on Stiles’ ass, his right hand slipping deep enough to press the pad of his thumb against the hot entrance of Stiles’ hole. Desire engulfed Scott so completely that all thoughts other than his cock in Stiles’ ass were banished from existence. “Ahhh!”

“Oh! Yeah!” Stiles moaned loudly when Scott dragged his precum slick cock up and down the hairless crack, milking the slippery substance all over Stiles’ hole, his hand working his foreskin along his thick shaft and over his glans, covering them just enough to make Scott’s nerves tingle. “More! More! Oh, Scott, yes!”

“Yeah, you like that?!” Scott growled, reaching a hand under to find Stiles rock hard, his cock shuddering at Scott’s touch. “Yesterday was amazing, you fucked me so hard and deep and raw, but now it’s my turn! Now it’s primal!” The werewolf kept his voice low, but his eyes had already gone to blood-red vision and his clawed hands were moving to grip Stiles’ waist even as he thrust himself forward. His cock slid along the slicked up channel of Stiles’ ass and then entered his hole with a pulse of momentary resistance. “Ahhh! Yeah!”

“Ahhh!” Stiles cried out, echoing him as pain blazed across his mind, the momentary loss of pleasure enough to banish the dark tendrils that had obscured his thoughts since that morning. He blinked in confusion when he realized they were in a circle around the maypole, all the villagers engaged in a frantic orgy. The pain began to fade, and Stiles felt a weariness come across him again, the shroud falling over his eyes as before. “Fuck!” He grunted, Scott slamming in and out of him in a way that was almost too pleasurable to ignore, the stretch of his hole as Scott’s full thickness was buried in him, the way his own cock screamed for attention as Scott hammered into his prostate over and over again, the way Scott’s clawed grip on his waist was pointed with dangerous delight-

“Of course!” Stiles grunted and reached back with the hand not restrained by the ribbon. He grimaced and gritted his teeth as he pressed his hand on Scott’s, causing his claws to break the flesh and pierce Stiles’ skin. “Ah!” Pain bloomed across his back and the darkness once more retreated. Stiles looked around for Axel as Scott continued fucking him unabashed, “There you, well, whatever monster you are.”

“Ah, yeah, Stiles!” Scott moaned behind him, pulling Stiles back onto his cock, blood dripping between his claws and running in streams down Stiles’ thigh. “Aw, you’re so tight! You didn’t breed me yesterday, but I’m going to breed you today! Fill you full of werewolf cum! Of Alpha cum!”

“Gah, fuck!” Stiles grunted, desire for Scott and what he was promising battering at his attempts to focus beyond the pleasurable sex they were having. He caught sight of Axel again, the creature moving close to where the Elder and his wife were in the passionate throes of their orgasm. “What the hell?” Stiles glanced down, eyes widening when he saw the earth around the maypole rupture upwards soundlessly, fresh blood pumping from the soil, white bones visible beneath the wound. The maypole itself began to shudder violently, the tremors vibrating down along the strands of ribbon to quake into the revellers in its grasp.

“And now, my master comes forth!” Axel cried out, holding aloft two daggers, one in each hand. “The way is open: flesh and blood and bone and life!”

“Oh no!” Stiles gasped as he watched Axel simultaneously plunge the daggers into the Elder and Theresa, repeating the action over and over again as they shouted louder-seemingly in ecstasy-until Axel was covered in their blood. “What the-” Stiles didn’t get to finish his sentence as Axel turned to the maypole and held his blades aloft, crimson rivers pouring over his handsome face, his body heaving with exertion. The maypole gave one final, massive pulse and then went still.

But the murders only seemed to empower the revellers and they continued their frenzied orgy until one by one, all along the circle, they started to cum. Stiles looked over his shoulder in time to see Godric and his chosen youth erupt upon each other, cum splashing against their abs as they gripped each other tight. He glanced at Scott, grimacing slightly at his fully wolfed-out visage, before seeing the same look as they had shared in the church the day before. “Oh…fuck. Uhhhh! Aww! Why does it feel so good?!”

“Ahhh!” Scott howled, pulling Stiles closer to him, burying his cock fully in the tight, clenching pocket of heat. He reached a hand under his friend to help him off, but Stiles was already shooting load after load and Scott pushed himself in and out rapidly until he finally erupted inside Stiles’ ass, filling the clenching space with his cream. He could feel it leaking out around him, but that only encouraged Scott to keep fucking Stiles. 

“Ah, Scott! Wait!” Stiles moaned over the loud sounds of their bodies coming together in perfect rapture. “We have to, uh! Oh, god!”

“Don’t worry, I’m going again, and there’s plenty more cum to, err, come!” Scott laughed and looked around, grinning as the other villagers also continued to fuck. 

“Damnit!” Stiles panted and pointed towards the blood-covered figure at the other side of the maypole. “You have to stop him!”

“Your ass feels so good loaded up, dude!” Scott moaned, resuming his steady pace. “Man, we should have done this a long time ago! Hell, we even could have brought in your boy, Ryan, I bet I could take two cocks!”

“Gah, I have to do everything myself!” Stiles grunted, attempting to move off Scott’s hard cock. But the ribbon tightened around his hand and Stiles was forced to look up when he saw movement at the edge of the circle. “Is that…the Visitor?”

“He comes! He comes! He comes!” Axel’s joyous shouts echoed across the village, audible above the constant sounds of pleasure and euphoria. “And now He blesses the worthy!”

The Visitor arrived abruptly, shuddering into existence between two of the braziers, after-images hanging in the air behind him. He was tall, impossibly so, at least ten feet in height and muscular like those statues of Greek gods and heroes Stiles had looked at for midnight inspiration before discovering porn. Chiselled musculature, slightly curled hair, features that were both beautiful and forgettable at the same time, such that Stiles could not recall his face once the Visitor had passed him, walking towards Axel. 

“Oh, wow.” Stiles muttered, seeing the shadow of a massive cock that swung between his legs as the Visitor moved. “Well, there’s a symbol of fertility alright.” He glanced over his shoulder when he noticed that Scott had stopped fucking him, although the werewolf’s cock was still buried in Stiles’ overflowing hole, their cum mingling into a pool at their feet. “Uh, ok, I’ll take that as progress.”

As the Visitor continued to walk past them, the ground in his wake burst into flowers and greenery, the scent of pollen suddenly heavy on the air before fading away, the intensity of freshly spilled cum overtaking it, unnaturally amplified. The Visitor stopped next to the freshly killed bodies of the Elder and Theresa. He stooped low and Stiles frowned until he saw the figure stand up again, mirroring Axel’s blood-splattered appearance. The Visitor raised his hands into the air as if giving thanks, blood running in rivulets along his muscular torso and disappearing into the shadows of his crotch. “Prepare to receive my blessing, mortals!”

“This can’t be good.” Stiles muttered as he felt the ribbon go slack against his skin. The momentary pause in the villagers’ orgy also passed and they resumed their revelry once more, this time with increased passion and more partners. “Scott, we need to get out of here!”

“Not yet, I’m close to a second load!” Scott groaned, adjusting the angle of his penetration. “And let’s get Axel in on the action!”

“Scott! We need to-”

“Enjoy yourselves more!” The Visitor’s sonorous voice boomed across the square. “Give in to the pleasure, distant guests! Give in to me!”

A sudden, blinding blue light crashed over the revellers accompanied by a fiercesome warmth that lanced right through Stiles’ chest and into his ass. Stiles bowed his head to avoid the brightness. “Ahhh!” He gasped as a crescendo of pleasure washed over him so intense that he felt his cock spasm and cum: jetting a hot load right across his stomach and chest onto his face. “Pwaa! Uh, fuck!”

“Awwww, yeah!” Scott cried out when he shot his second load of cum into Stiles’ clenching asshole. “Ah! Ah! It’s too much!” Pleasure sparked into his brain at such impossible levels that Scott slumped forward onto Stiles’ back.

“Scott! Scott?! Argh…fuck.” Stiles groaned as the sensations overwhelmed him completely and his vision went dark.


	5. Ritual Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are strong horror elements in this chapter and explicit sexual content, although not at the same time!

“Ugh…” Scott grunted as consciousness slowly rolled over him, pulling him back to reality from the nothingness that had enveloped him. It felt like only moments before that he was emptying his load into Stiles’ glorious, _tight_ ass, but judging from the fact he was now lying on his stomach, face against the earth, some time had passed since then. Scott rolled onto his side, exposing enough of his surroundings to recognize that they were still next to the maypole; it was dark and although the flames from braziers had died down, there was enough glow for him to see without reverting to werewolf vision. Scott patted himself down, grimacing when he found himself naked, his cock limp and slightly tender, as though he had been overworking it. His chest, abs, navel, and thighs were coated in dried patches of what he assumed were cum, some of it still slightly sticky. “Uh, what happened?”

He got onto his hands and knees, fragments of memories coming back to him, though disjointed, unclear. Scott lurched forward involuntarily when he made to straighten out his torso, the action causing his ass to clench and a warm, wet sensation to trickle out of his hole. _Wait, was I fucked? Hmm, it doesn’t feel as though anything was hurt back there, and it actually still feels kinda good…_ His questing fingers touched against his slick crack and he slid the digits down and then brought them back to his nose, trying to determine the owner’s scent. It was odourless and Scott frowned again. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t?” Stiles muttered, looking at Scott from his position on the ground. He wasn’t quite sitting, almost lounging against the earth with bent knees as though wanting to spare his ass from any pain. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Uh…there was…” Scott pressed his lips together as flashes of possibilities winked across his mind’s eye. “We fucked?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, adding quickly, “It was good, by the way, I enjoyed it, in case you think I didn’t.”

“Why would I think that? Did you top me afterwards?”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” Stiles shook his head. “You seemed to lose yourself in the, uh, in the orgy that consumed everyone else. It would have been really hot too if the Visitor and Axel weren’t trying to complete some weird sacrificial ritual.”

“Hmm.” Scott grunted. _Stiles liked getting fucked by me?! Awesome! We’ll have to come back to that again, heh, come-cum..._

“Scott.” 

“What?” His head snapped up, suddenly embarrassed by his immaturity. 

“I know I’m sore and uncomfortable because of the anal, but you were acting like you’d been fucked too.” The furrow of Stiles’ brow was familiar, and Scott nodded slowly. “It seems the rest of the villagers experienced something similar.”

“Hmm, maybe, I don’t feel like I _have_ been topped, more like I was being prepared.” Scott looked away abruptly when Stiles shot him a confused look. “Uh, let’s discuss that another time.”

“Yeah, we should try and get out of here.” Stiles whispered, gesturing for Scott to join him as he crawled between the slumbering bodies of the spent villagers towards the other side of the maypole. “Look: The Visitor is still here.”

“Yeah…” Scott murmured his agreement, his eyes taking in the blood soaked grass and the grisly chunks of flesh and bone that had been strewn across the foot of the maypole. The Visitor was standing nearby, the figure undisputedly male with his muscled chest and impossibly girthy cock hanging several feet between his thick thighs. Any detail of the monster’s face was obscured by the thick coating of drying blood and gore, viscera had been spread across his heaving torso almost as a gruesome decoration. Scott’s eyes locked onto the slowly swinging dick as the Visitor turned and the dark, smooth flesh of the long shaft gleamed with the same type of cum-like lubricant that Scott had felt in his ass-and presumably in the other villagers’ holes as well.

Despite the girthy pendulum holding Scott’s attention, he also noticed the thick, veiny arms that hung at the Visitor’s sides, ending in his large hands and very pointy claws. They too were coated in drying blood and Scott glanced between them and the eviscerated remains of the Elder and Theresa nearby. He gestured for Stiles to withdraw as the Visitor turned away from them, addressing someone or something else in a guttural language Scott couldn’t recognize. “C’mon, we need to pull back.”

“Right behind you.”

“So,” Scott said once they had retreated to the other side of the maypole, next to where Godric and several other villagers lay, passed out. “So, what do you think is going on?”

“We were, well, _everyone_ was having sex, all except for Axel.” Stiles replied, keeping his voice low. “I’m certain that he’s the leader of this cult, maybe he’s some sort of supernatural too. I don’t remember everything that led up to the fucking; one minute I’m talking to him at the top of the village, the next is when you were…you know.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, we probably would have got there eventually, and besides, you definitely weren’t in control of your faculties at the time.” Stiles shrugged and then continued as Scott stared at him. “Something big happened at the end of the ritual, after Axel killed the Elder and Theresa and summoned that creature here. There was a flash of light and then I can’t remember anything else.”

“Hmm, same.” Scott absently rubbed his butt cheeks again. “Maybe the Visitor is about to come back for another round?”

“It doesn’t really matter. We _have_ to get out of here.”

“Ok, ok, do you have any idea how?”

“The maypole in the forest.” Stiles replied quickly. “If we go back there and recreate the ritual, maybe we can get it to work in reverse.”

“We don’t have the ribbons anymore though.” Scott looked around, seeing only ragged streamers hanging off the maypole, clearly torn off, although through exuberance or deliberate action, he wasn’t sure.

“We’ll make do.”

“I know you want to leave, and the Visitor has some big claws, but-”

“No, Scott.” Stiles interrupted him with a firm shake of his head. “I don’t think you’re actually seeing what I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look. Really look.” Stiles shuddered as Scott frowned. “Oh, fine.”

“Ow!” Scott yelped when Stiles reached over and gave his hard nipple a rough twist. But before he could protest further, the pain made the image of reality in front of him bend and ripple, shifting into an entirely different vista as whatever façade had been there was brushed away. “What the fuck…”

Scott looked up at the maypole, now turned into a twisted, knotted thing, long grooves were carved into its slick, black surface as a foul, green pus drained from its rotten interior. The ground around them had become mushy and unpleasant. Scott pressed down on the rich, black soil and gagged when blood welled up between his fingers, coating his hand in crimson. The fertile garden created by the Visitor had also changed into a tangled mess of nettles and weeds, with putrid yellow-capped mushrooms growing in clumps at the edge of the square. 

He concentrated on the houses and shops beyond the square which seemed to be as they were before, despite the haze which hung in the air between them. The sky above them was dark and cloudy; the stars now shrouded in a gloom that was pocked with the occasional ripple of purple lightning. In a strikingly bizarre contrast to their immediate surroundings, the villagers nearest Scott and Stiles were remarkably untouched by the sudden corruption. Their cheeks were rosy, their skin supple, each with an inner glow that clashed with their unmoving bodies. Unlike before, Scott could now smell the mingled scents of several people in the fluids that adorned their torsos and hands, and, in some cases, from the cum still wet enough that it was draining out of used orifices down the insides of their thighs.

“Over there.” Stiles muttered, nodding at where the Visitor was just visible. “Do you see it now?”

“I wish I didn’t.” Scott murmured in response, reviled by the sight before him, but also strangely entranced. The creature was still clad in its gory horror, but now with twisting horns reaching upwards from a bestial head while buckled, ruptured skin covered its arms, thighs, and torso. Dark growths like tree branches had erupted from the seeping wounds and slowly grew every few seconds as Scott watched. When the monster moved, its feet were revealed to be cloven hooves larger than dinnerplates, its prodigious cock swinging to and fro, a weapon in its own right. Accompanying the vile creature was… “Axel.” Scott gasped, staring at the youth, as beautiful and immaculate as he ever was. “They’re coming this way! Play dead, Stiles!” He dropped his head to the ground, his face towards the maypole and shut his eyes tight once he had confirmed Stiles was following his lead. 

Axel and the creature came around the maypole towards them before stopping somewhere in front of Stiles. Scott could hear an appraising grunt from the youth and then he spoke. “Thestor…yes, he will make a good offering for The Fallen One.”

“Hmm, if you think so,” The creature replied, its voice as deep and sonorous as before. “But make sure you choose the gift wisely, Axel, you will have to spend all eternity with this youth, serving our master’s whims.”

“Thestor will be fun to break! Always so confident in himself and his cock!” Axel laughed, a delicate sound at odds with their nightmarish surroundings. “I shall enjoy teaching him, bending him, making him one of us. In a few hundred years, he will carry out the master's orders with glee!”

“What of these two?” The creature was walking towards them, his movements surprisingly light for something that looked-and sounded-so heavy. “The Alpha’s true essence has been harvested and he has been drained of all…lust.”

“Leave them for now, there is no time for you to indulge your appetites.” Axel replied. “You must return before the sun comes up, take the remains of the sacrifice with you, I’m sure the wolves are hungry. And can we _please_ speak something else, I can practically feel the magic draining from me with this barbaric tongue.”

Scott licked his dry lips and waited for the duo to return to the other side of the maypole, both of them conversing in some dry language filled with harsh syllables and frequent clicks. When their voices were more distant, Scott caught Stiles’ eye and nodded. “Ok, let’s leave now, before they come back again.”

“I’m way ahead of you.” Stiles rose into a crouch, positioning himself almost as though he was about to launch forward at the starting shot. 

“Hang on,” Scott motioned towards the other villagers. “Don’t you think we should do something for them? Try and save Thestor at least?”

“I don’t think we can.” Stiles shook his head. “Even if we could carry him back with us, he’d be a man out of time, it just wouldn’t work, Scott.”

“But Axel said-”

“We have to go.” Stiles replied firmly. “I’m not sure what Axel and his friend have planned for the rest of them, but I’m pretty sure we don’t get out of this alive: he knows you’re a werewolf and they both seem to be serving another master.”

“Fine,” Scott relented. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles whispered and then took off at a sprint towards the gate when Scott gestured for him to go. His feet were silent on the ground and the naked figure dashed along the empty street towards the entrance. When he reached the wooden structure, Stiles turned back to him and thrust out his hand with his thumb up.

“I’m on my way.” Scott got up, but remained low, and began to stealthily move away from the maypole. As he was traversing carefully through the sleeping villagers, two ribbons drifted down from the maypole, floating in the still air before him. They were white and gold, made from a shimmering fabric, different from all the others, including the ones he and Stiles had arrived with. Scott frowned and felt his pulse race higher as he lingered before the ribbons. 

“Shit!” Stiles’ voice carried loudly over the quiet night air.

“Huh?” Scott looked up, seeing that one of the gates had been pulled open, but Stiles was cradling his arm as though he had hurt it. _Ok, fine, magic ribbons, let’s go!_ He grabbed the sparkling threads and moved into an upright posture, dashing towards Stiles.

“RAWRRRRRRRRRR!” The fearsome roar shook the earth and made Scott stagger. 

“Oh fuck!” He gasped, still running even as he looked over his shoulder in time to see the Visitor rush around the maypole. The creature’s arms were filled with the grisly remains of the Elder and his wife; Theresa’s head carried along with the other body parts and organs. But the macabre prizes were dropped when the Visitor began to chase after him. “Run, Stiles! Run and don’t stop!”

“Ok! Ok!” Stiles cried out from somewhere beyond the gate. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“After them! Do not let them escape!” Axel’s voice came from behind him, but Scott didn’t look back again. He leaped through the gate and into the inkiness of the early morning.

The Visitor pursued them through the forest, whether to defile or kill them, Scott didn’t know, and he didn’t care. But despite its monstrous size, the creature seemed to have difficultly getting through the dense trees and overgrown trails that crisscrossed through the forest. “So, what’s the plan, Stiles?” Scott said as he caught up to his friend. “It’s this way.”

“Well, at least we won’t get lost.” Stiles muttered with a grimace. “I really wish we could have gone back for our shoes.”

“They can puzzle archaeologists later! Plan! Now!”

“You have ribbons?” Stiles glanced at Scott’s hand, the ribbons gleaming in the darkness. “Ok, I’m not gonna question how you have those, but it’s simple: we wrap them around the maypole, do a circuit and…boom!”

“Boom?” Scott echoed uncertainly. “I thought there’d be more than that!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think we’d be pursued by a nature demon that wants to split our asses open and ram his tree trunk dick inside, but there you go!”

“Here! Here!” Scott dragged Stiles sideways into the clearing they had arrived in a few days previously. “Look! It’s still there!” He pointed at the dull wooden pole and handed one ribbon to Stiles. “Let’s get wrapping.”

“Do you hear the Visitor?” Stiles whispered as he approached the maypole tentatively.

“Yeah, he’s distant…we have a few minutes.” Scott replied, closing his eyes to concentrate his other senses. _Maybe its power wanes the further from the ritual site it gets?_ When he opened his eyes again, Stiles had climbed half-way up the pole and was tying his ribbon around the top. “What are you doing?!” Scott hissed even as Stiles rolled his eyes at him. “Ok, I know _what_ you’re doing, but why are you up there?”

“Just throw me your ribbon and I’ll tie it on too.” Stiles extended an arm towards him as Scott sighed and relented. “Ok, just a minute.”

“Hmm.” Scott watched as Stiles’ lean body pressed against the pole, his legs wrapped around its girth, his butt cheeks so tight as they flexed and pulled taut. As he stretched further up to knot the top of the ribbons to the pole, Scott moved around so that he could see Stiles’ hole, his night vision casting everything into red. He grunted in disappointment before gasping, his cock hardening when Stiles flexed his ass cheeks, seeking to gain a better grasp of the pole, his hole puckering and gloriously wide from when Scott fucked him earlier that night. “Oh, yes, please-”

“I’m got it!” Stiles cried out and let himself down the pole-fireman style. He turned around and opened his mouth, about to speak before he paused, staring at Scott. “Uh, we should get the ritual going.”

“Uh huh, yeah.”

“I know we’re both naked, but there’s a crazy monster out there, Scott, focus!” Stiles snapped and handed him the end of the gold ribbon. “Ok, follow me around the pole.”

“Yup, I’m following.” Scott wrapped the ribbon around his wrist-a strangely familiar action-and then began to walk behind Stiles in a slow circuit around the maypole. Once they had completed one rotation, he groaned. “Nothing happened.”

“I know.”

“The monster is getting closer.”

“I know!” Stiles shouted back at him, pacing around before finally smacking his forehead with his palm. “Of course! Quick, you need to fuck me!”

“What?! You just said now isn’t the time, Stiles!” Scott gaped at him even as his cock began to rise again.

“It’s exactly the time!” Stiles nodded furiously, talking quickly. “The maypole in the village seemed to get super-charged by the orgy; the one that brought us here was a trap, but that pole brought the Visitor in. Maybe all we need is a recharge for this pole.”

“You did say your dream about the one in Beacon Hills had an orgy in it.” Scott said, glancing towards the increasingly louder sounds of the monster’s passage through the trees. “Maybe it got charged at home.”

“Ok, sure, let’s just do this.”

“Hang on.” Scott shook his head. “You should fuck _me_ instead and from behind so I can better defend us. I’ll have my hands free that way.”

“Err, maybe we can just jerk off?” Stiles suggested. “Spread our cum on the maypole that way?”

“I need both hands to fight, Stiles, and I can’t risk you being in harm’s way!” Scott shouted. “Get behind me! And get inside me!”

“Alright, fine!” Stiles snapped and moved around to Scott’s rear. “This is gonna be quick and rough, Scott!”

“That’s all it has to be! Awwwww, yeah!” Scott replied, his words becoming a long, pleasured moan when he felt Stiles’ hands spread his ass cheeks wide and stretch open his hole. There was a momentary glance of coolness as the breeze washed across his already lubed up entrance. The sensation passed and the contrasting heat of Stiles’ abruptly hard cock pressed against Scott’s hole. “Push in already!”

“Yeah, let me get a better grip.” Stiles muttered, his hands moving to hold onto Scott’s hips. “I’m going in now.”

“Stop talking, start fucking!” Scott grunted, lurching backwards when he felt more pressure against his hole. The sensation of Stiles’ big cock popping into his asshole was almost too pleasurable and Scott cried out wordlessly. He clenched his muscles around the intrusion as stars exploded in front of his eyes, his own cock already unleashing a stream of precum around the head of his dick, kept contained by his foreskin. Scott spared one hand to reach down and roll the skin back, gasping as his cock jerked in his hand. “Gah! Urgh!”

“Stop that, let me do it!” Stiles barked, pausing in his insertion long enough to bat Scott’s hands away from his cock. “You just get ready to fight!”

“Yeah, ok!” Scott moaned, feeling Stiles move inside him suddenly. He half-heartedly raised his hands in a defensive stance. “Oooh!” The other guy didn’t waste time on getting settled into his ass or allow Scott to get used to the stretch in his hole. Instead, Stiles started plugging away in and out of him with increasing speeds and more reckless thrusts. “Ahh, yeah!”

“Mmmh, this is pretty good!” Stiles groaned, pulling Scott’s ass onto his cock harder and more forcefully. “The first time we did this, there was barely any lube, now it feels like I could slip and slide in you forever!”

“Aw, yeah, Stiles!” Scott panted, trying to focus on the monster, who appeared to be ripping up a tree in order to get to them. He grunted and gasped as Stiles relentlessly pounded his prostate over and over and over again. “Oh, fuck! I’m already so close!”

“Good!” Stiles managed, sweat rolling down his torso to slick against Scott’s body, their exertions becoming as loud as the Visitor’s approach. “I’m super there, dude! I’m gonna cum on the maypole, you should too!”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” Scott grunted, moaning needily when Stiles suddenly pulled out of his hole. He staggered over to the maypole and fisted his cock desperately, watching through lust-addled eyes as Stiles gasped and shot his creamy load onto the dark wood of the pole. “Fuck! It’s working!” Scott yelled and then shuddered as pleasure washed over him and his cock spewed out several jets, mingling with Stiles’ cum on the maypole. The wood began to lighten and gleam, a deep thrumming emerging from it as Scott milked out his final drops. “Yes! It’s happening now, Stiles!”

“Just in time too!” Stiles nodded over at the edge of the grove, his hand wrapping around the ribbon. There was an abrupt tightening of the cords around their wrists and the maypole began to visibly pulse with energy. “Here we go!”

“Caw! Caw!” A flock of ravens burst out of the trees above them and flew over the maypole just as the ribbons flashed with light, blinding them before the Visitor lunged at them, claws outstretched.

“Woah!” Scott gasped, hugging Stiles to him as they staggered against each other, their skin feverish. “Are you ok?”

“Did we make it?” Stiles asked in a shaky voice.

“I think so,” Scott looked around, even as he kept Stiles close to him. “There’s no windmill, no monster attacking us, and I’m pretty sure it’s close to midday.”

“Ok, ok,” Stiles moved away from him, his eyes scanning the leaf strewn ground. “On the plus side, I just found my keys, so we’re probably home at the right time, err.”

“But?”

“We’re both naked and covered in cum.” Stiles gave him a weary grin even as Scott smirked and then they both broke into relieved laughter. “Let’s try and make it back to the trailhead without getting spotted and then head back to my place.”

“Maybe it’s only been a few hours?”

“No idea, guess we’ll find out when we return to civilization.” Stiles shrugged and held out his hand to Scott. “Coming?”

“Yeah, of course.” Scott grinned. “Hey Stiles?”

“What?”

“Do you think we’re still speaking German?”

The leaves swirled across the empty clearing as the maypole slowly returned to the muted pallor it had been before being recharged. The Fallen One walked through the leaf storm, dismissing the gale with a brief gesture. The wind no longer ruffled his hair or pressed the modern clothing uncomfortably against his body. Careful eyes surveyed his surroundings and once he had confirmed that no one else was nearby, The Fallen One extended a muscular arm and thrust it towards the maypole.

The wood creaked and groaned before finally splitting down the middle, its brighter core shooting out in one solid piece across the clearing and into the figure’s grasp. The Fallen One tilted his head to and fro, examining the shard from several angles before appearing satisfied with it. He uncurled his fist and looked at the piece of wood, time moving rapidly around the shard until the roughness was smoothed away and the piece had been shaped into a short pole of about a foot in length. Green lines raced up and down the aged wood like veins and the figure closed his hand around the staff. “Excellent, you have done excellent work, minion.”

“Thank you, master.” Axel bowed his head as he appeared from thin air through a shimmering slit in the world. His physical appearance was no different from when Scott and Stiles had met him, although Axel was now clad only in a garland of flowers that fitted around his waist, a tactfully placed fig leaf covering his crotch. “I live to serve.”

“Do you?” The Fallen One murmured, casting a suspicious eye over the satyr. “Or have you been away from me too long?”

“Never, master!” Axel knelt down before him, his posture completely submissive. “My life for the Cabal of Ages!”

“Good, you will return with us, Axel, I want to see if Thestor has been successful in his task.” The figure nodded as he turned away from the maypole which had collapsed into aged firewood. “Summon the other members. We have the first Creator Key at last: the forces of life and true Alpha strength are ours to wield. Now we know that this group are the ones to use to extract the other essences, we can proceed.”

“Won’t that be difficult?” A silky voice came from his right. “One of those we need is not even alive.”

“That is no problem; just bend time around him.” The Fallen One laughed gently, watching as the other two members arrived seconds later. He waved his hands dismissively when the ghostly woman glared at him. “I know, I know, the time continuum must not be altered beyond a push or a shove, at least, not yet.”

“The Anuk-Ite served its purpose.” A man dressed in animal skins and carrying a long spear with a sharpened bone blade spoke up, addressing the group. “It failed, I know, but a rival’s rage cannot burn so bright until it has tasted sorrow and regret. We need only return the rival and our plans can proceed.”

“You still have life essence from the ritual in Germania.” Another woman replied, her visage shifting subtly between a face of beauty and one of horror, adorned in phasing tentacles. “Just resurrect him. I already found a place where we can tap the gold; but we need them together to fuse the essence and material as one.”

“Agreed.” The Fallen One nodded again before stretching out his free hand. “Lords of the Underworld, of the Overworld, of all the realms in-between, I offer you the life essence of two dozen fresh souls to take into your embrace in exchange for just one mortal werewolf harvested too soon from this world! Honor this dark bargain and when the Seal of Realms is torn asunder, you will walk on Earth once more and harvest souls without restriction!”

The gale wove invisibly onwards, rustling through the wooden gates of the cemetery and along the well-kept graves towards the back lots where fresh earth was erupting with grass. An iron cross had been stuck into the ground as a placeholder until the headstone arrived. Whispered words in a strange and foreign tongue carried across the wind and sunk into the unsettled soil, down through the deep loam and inside the polished wood of the coffin to wrap around the dead body within. Green light pulsed across the suit and tie, zapping into his face, and returning his skin to a healthy tan, before resting at last in the still chambers of his heart. Still no more...

“Huh?!” Brett gasped as his eyes snapped open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of the first part in this series, I hope you enjoyed it! The next part will focus on Liam and Brett...as you could probably tell. I aim to have that started around mid-July and it will be in the same format as this story; four/five chapters over about a month. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Mayday everyone! I’ve been working on this story since around the time the lockdown started, and I’ll be updating it every Friday for the month of May. There are other parts to the saga that will be released over the coming year or so that will tell different aspects of the story from different characters’ perspectives, focusing on Stiles & Scott, Liam & Brett, Theo & Corey, Mason, and finally, Nolan & Gabe. This first story will set the pattern for the remaining parts and it will have some reoccurring themes. Thank you for reading and I hope everyone is staying safe out there!


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